Title: Unexpected

Beta: None. All mistakes are my own.

Note: No riddle this time since it's upload two for the night. Its 11:05pm and I'm up so might as well write something. I lost my iPod somewhere in my house, so I cannot go to sleep even if I wanted to knowing that the poor thing must be scared and alone.

Key:

Justice: Bold

Anders: Italicized

Anders left the elf alone and decided to continue his duties. There wasn't much, not after the birth and immediate care of the babe and the mother. There were some patients who needed his continuous help but at the moment they were either with family, passed out or asleep. The clinic, however, needed his attention. Empty bottles of potions, herbs and medicine lay scattered around the floor and in his office off back. The racks and cabinets where open, contents on the verge of falling and some leaking needed his attention as well as dirty, bloodied or soiled linens that made the back area stink. He didn't have time for a hung-over elf with attitude problems.

As easy as it was to say that he had better things to do, it was harder to actually do them instead of standing around and staring at Fenris. He caught himself several times stealing glances at the white haired elf and managed to catch himself before Fenris saw him. It was like his eyes lingered Fenris' way whenever his mind strayed from his job for a moment.

You're hands are starting to look like prunes from the amount of time you've spent washing the linen. Yet it would seem only one article has made it out of the soapy water.

You're point?

You are distracted, that is my point. The elf will still be there when you're done, finish your work before ogling the elf.

I'm not ogling. I'm just… worried for his health, is all.

He drank too much last night, it was his fault and he will be fine. You said it yourself, Anders, there are more important things to do.

Who died and put you in charge, huh? Since when are you my boss?

I am not your boss, you do not work for anyone and I fail to see what someone dying has to do with being 'in charge'.

One day, Justice, we will sit down and have a long talk about the mechanics of sarcasm. But not now, I'm busy ogling.

Anders returned to washing the linens of blood, urine, feces and a strange, crusty substance that he was scared to touch. Maker knows what could have made that and he didn't want to know. By the time he was done, his hands were in fact similar to prunes just as Justice had said. But at least now the clinic had clean cloths, napkins and bed covers.

Next up, unfortunately, were his rounds. As much as he loved to heal, he hated the act of having to make pleasantries while family members where present especially if the patient was fatally ill. Most of his long-term patients where ill with one thing or another and were, unfortunately, going to die. Some lasted a good few weeks before taking their final breathe and some recovered enough to go home. Others left, as they got worst, deciding to die at home with their families rather that in a clinic in Dark Town with other dying people and a stench of death surrounding them. Anders would have picked the later; he didn't want to die in his own clinic.

After speaking to the families, updating them on their relative's condition, and checking on the patient, Anders made his way to the back to organize his shelves and cabinets. That took less time that he would've wanted and so, half an hour later, he found himself walking to Fenris' cot and sitting down on the bed next to him.

Fenris wondered what Anders was playing at, staring at him every few minutes only to look away the second Fenris looked. It was both frustrating and annoying and Fenris was starting to get fed up. When the mage approached his cot, Fenris ignored him, turning away pretending to be asleep. But the mage knew better, he could probably sense that he wasn't asleep with his magic and so sat down and sighed.

"I hate this," Anders told him. "Putting on a brave face for the family when I know their loved one has days maybe weeks to live. "

"Then don't," was Fenris' reply. "Tell them the truth, they should know it anyway. It will be worst to find out one day that their relative died while they ate breakfast."

"I see your point but i do not want to tell them that. I'm here to heal, to counsel and to listen and I haven't survived this long by telling the truth."

"Have it your way," Fenris muttered. "Can I sleep now or do you have anything else to say?"

"I'll check up on you later." Anders said.

True to his word, Anders came back and sat down an hour later, putting up his feet on Fenris' cot with yet another sigh. It seemed like his job made the mage sigh every few hours whether it was in frustration with himself, Justice or with his patients was hard to tell. Perhaps it was a combination of both or maybe it was none. Whatever the case, Fenris had taken a nap and was slightly less hung over now and he decided to let the mage talk out his problems as thanks for helping him last night.

"Did you see that old man? He was intoxicated and on the verge of a clot and yet, after I damned well saved his life, he threw up on me and walked away." Anders removed his upper robe, discarding it on the floor between them. "And that whore from the Blooming Rose, wanting to pay me with free services for a broken nail. A broken nail! Not to mention the little boy who, despite weighing less that my arm, wanted to pay me in bread. The poor thing had no food except for that piece of bread and he wanted to give it to me."

"You did not take it, I hope," Fenris said eying the mage. Without his robe on, the giant piece of material that made him look like a grizzly bear, Anders looked rather lanky and way too skinny to be normal. "Although it would help with your own weigh issue. You look just about to pass out from both exhaustion and malnutrition."

"Well, well, well, look whose suddenly a healer. Tell me, oh, grand pooh bah, should I have excepted bread as payment and let a child starve or live another day without food?"

"You could die and then who would help all these people?" Fenris asked. "I would rather see a child who is likely to go into a life of crime and die young die from malnutrition than see you waste away because of your principles."

"Having a little domestic, are we?" Hawke's voice yelled out from across the room. He approached, Isabella and Varric in tow, with a smile on his face. "Anders, Fenris, if you two aren't busy having a row, I need help up in mine."

"Fenris should be all healed up and my rounds are done. I can have someone replace me in five minutes."

"All ready taken care of, Blondie," Varric replied motioning behind him. Two mages entered the clinic, their eyes searching for danger before stepping into the room and heading to Anders. "These two are as reliable as any men I've ever worked for, their magic is strong in the healing arts and they can take over for you for as long as you're gone."

"All right," Anders conceded. "Let's go."

Riddle:

Clue: