Angelle was walking through Darktown. She had to see Anders. She had to tell him the truth about Cullen. Today she wouldn't let him turn her away. Her entire body felt uneasy, as if she could throw up any moment. She stood outside the clinic for several minutes before she had worked up the courage to go inside. There weren't any patients, so at least he couldn't use that excuse. He was sitting at his desk writing.
" Anders?" She walked over to him slowly trying to seem as natural as possible.
"Hello Hawke." He looked at her with a frown on his face and then continued to write. Angelle had to muster her courage once more.
"About yesterday... I'm not seeing Cullen. We had an awkward conversation and before I knew, what I was doing, I had invited him to The Hanged Man. It wasn't on purpose I don't care for him the way I do for y..." She felt the air fading from her lips unable to continue.
Anders smiled vaguely, but didn't turn around. She looked at him for what for her seemed like hours. She finally asked.
"What are you doing?" He stood up and walked towards her.
"I have been trying to write down my arguments, to convince someone like you that the Circle is abusive and unjust. You been there every day for a year... how can you not see? Our gifts are granted by the Maker. How is it a man can call himself a templar and set himself above us?"
"I'm pretty sure there is some training involved." Angelle joked. "He is so cute when he rebels."
" Any fool with a sword can join the order. They rule by violence, not divine right. I will make you see! If I convince no one else in Thedas at least I will have you by my side before this is over."
Angelle felt her heart pumping and a shivering sensation filled her entire body. His eyes made her knees go weak and she felt herself flushing. She became so nervous that she gave a big smile and failed to suppress a giggle. Unfortunately Anders mistook this behaviour for ridicule.
"This is madness! You are everything I hate!" he replied angrily.
And as quickly as she had felt this rush of happiness it disappeared and was replaced by despair. Did he really hate her? As she started to cry Anders was baffled. He had never seen her cry. She had always been this sassy, brave, young woman with a sarcastic remark to throw at him. She was the interest of a templar and a holy man from the Chantry. People she had far more in common with than him. But here she was. Crying... for him? He couldn't bear to see her tears. He held her close while kissing her hair.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
"You always treat me as if I am your enemy, but I'm not. I believe in your cause, I just hope for a peaceful solution. Please don't hate me. Let me prove to you that I am on your side."
"What do you mean?" But she couldn't answer. She had no air left and just hid her face in his feather covered shoulders. He put his hand on her chin and lifted it up and kissed her softly,
"If your door is open tonight I will come to you. If not... I know you took my warning at last."