IMPORTANT A/N: Heads up. This chapter is a lemon, and I've secluded it in case anyone wants to skip it. So if you don't want to read it, just scroll down to the bottom of the page for a brief summary of plot points, then go onto the next chapter.

"We love the things we love for what they are."
~ Robert Frost

x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x

It was growing late. Glancing up through the windows of Feynriel's conservatory, he could see the moon beginning to rise over the trees. His mind was weary…Justice was tired, but despite his better judgment, Anders continued to grind the herbs with the mortar. Feynriel had been running low, and he had a feeling that they were going to be making more "house calls" tomorrow night. Anders smirked at the notion. It had been a few weeks since the madam of the Garden of Allure had given him leave to come and go like Feynriel. However, he still wasn't sure how comfortable he was with it. Those people…they were not simple hosts and hostesses as they claim. He had seen his fair share of hunters and assassins to know the difference. However, Anders supposed that having "friends" like that in a city like this wasn't too much to complain about. But sooner or later, he was going to have to inform Hawke. He just wasn't sure how to go about telling her that he and the apprentice were spending some of their nights in various brothels….

Justice writhed angrily at the notion, but Anders quickly averted his thoughts. It was good that he was doing this. After the slight debacle at the Garden, Feynriel had taken him to the other houses to help more there. There, Anders found his purpose as a healer again, and it felt right. The familiar magic. The looks of gratitude and relief. It felt good doing this again. To heal and relieve pain…that felt like his role…not…not attempting to….

Anders shook his head as if to physically shake out the memory of the Chantry and what followed. He had no right to try and forget it, but…he couldn't face it right now. He didn't want to. Instead, he grabbed another dried herb and roughly began to grind it into a powder.

But then, the small tinkling of glass followed by the squeak of a cabinet door, drew his attention. Glancing up from the work table, Anders noticed a light coming from under the door that led to the supplies closet. Curious, Anders silently opened the door only to find…

"Hawke?"

The other mage froze as she reached up for a case of lyrium potions. Slowly turning to face him, it was then that Anders realized that she had a satchel slung over her shoulder. She did not say anything. She merely stared at him before returning to her task of gathering items.

"Hawke…what are you…?"

"I'm leaving Anders."

"What? Why?"

"It's just…time."

"I know this city can bring on some unpleasant memories, Hawke, but…" He could see that look in her face and knew that anything he had to say just wasn't going to be enough. Hawke was set in this. It would be difficult for him. He had just found a niche here…and now it seems he would be giving that up. However, he could take some of the enhil and after his meditation sessions with Euthymius, he may be able to replicate it. With a resolute shake of his head, he let out a sigh. "Are you truly that set in this?"

"Yes."

"And…you cannot be persuaded otherwise?"

"No."

Nodding his understanding, the mage replied heavily, "Alright. Just…give me a moment to get my things together."

"No, you don't understand, Anders," Hawke stated with her back yo him. "You're not coming with me."

"What do you mean? Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"

"No," she replied, "besides, you how bad I am at those."

"Then what is this about?"

"Nothing…I just…I think it's better this way. You've improving. Justice isn't as belligerent as before. It's…just the right thing to do."

"Bloody bullshit!"

"Anders. I am not arguing with you on this. I've made my decision, so just accept it."

"By the Void I will!" the healer shot back despite the late hour and the other two mages in the house that were slumbering on the floor above.

Hawke gave him that steely gaze that was usually reserved for those she was intent on pummeling with a barrage of fire. Even the few braziers that were lit pulsed irritably. But instead of scorching him, she merely stuffed the last of her pilfered items into her bag and left while slamming the door behind her.

Not deterred in the least, Anders went after her, but the moment his hand touched the door handle, the sound of searing flesh and a sharp pain had him jumping back.

Cursing under his breath, Anders nursed his burnt hand as he eyed the still red-hot metal of the door handle. "Stubborn, hot-tempered…." Anders muttered a spell of his own as he reached for the door. This time, the cold spell in his other hand countered Hawke's and he was able to wrench the door open. Healing his hand as he jogged down the hallway, he knew exactly where he was going.

Not bothering to knock, he entered her room and found her where he first suspected he would. She was looking out the window at the gardens. He remembered how much she enjoyed the stillness and quiet, not merely the pretty flowers or the foliage. On her bed was the satchel of lyrium and health potions, while a rucksack with a bedroll lay partially packed.

Anders shut the door behind him with a quick flick of his hand as he stalked over to her. "Hawke…there is more for us to say on this matter."

Her shoulders were set, her arms were crossed, and she had yet to turn and face him. These were not good signs. "There's nothing more to say," she replied icily.

No. He couldn't have it end like this. Not after Kirkwall. The darkspawn, Kirkwall, Darktown and all its corruption…Justice had been unable to take it, and in turn, had turned the both of them into tyrannical monsters. And now…now when he was beginning to regain some semblance of his old self, she was leaving.

"Hawke…" He knew what this was about. Anders could see it in the way Euthymius would study him and question him daily. "Please, Hawke." Void…there were times when he could sense it himself. "Damn it Marian, will you just look at me!" You did not play with magic like this, willingly consume cursed blood, and not pay the consequences…in some form or another. Yet she still did not turn to face him. "Do not treat me as if I'm already dead. And by the Void, don't think that abandoning me here will spare you any of the pain."

"I am not abandoning you," she replied softly while the earlier edge to her voice had disappeared.

"The bloody Void you're not!" he spat back. "In the very least, you can be honest with me in that sense. I deserve that much."

"I am not-"

"Over the past few weeks, ever since that Void stalker nearly took Feynriel and we investigated Denarius, you can barely look at me. And when you do, you have that same look in your eyes when you discovered Fenris was dead."

"Anders…enough."

"At least give the curtesy to know that those few times, when you did look at me, you saw me and not him."

"I am warning you now. Stop."

"And those few times you kissed me, it wasn't just to indulge me. It was because you wanted to, and when you did, you weren't thinking of him."

"Anders!"

"At least…at least grant me the courteously of telling me your true purpose for coming to this city." Her gaze was unwavering, but he could see her resolves slowly fracturing. "Marian…tell me."

Her mouth twisted in ire, and she seemed resolute to let her eyes linger on anything else in the room. Her shoulders shook slightly, and for a brief moment, the healer contemplated going to her regardless of his accusations. However, Hawke quickly composed herself as she regarded him with a cold, icy stare. "I had every intention of coming to Minrathous, Andres…the moment I bade Denarius to take Fenris."

"So…my presence here…"

She blinked slowly as if judging her next words and replied, "I wasn't blind to what you were doing Anders…but in the end, after seeing the look on Fenris's face after I betrayed him, I couldn't kill you. I knew I had to do everything in my power to save you."

"It…it still doesn't make sense. Why would you throw him back into chains only to intend to retrieve him?" he scoffed. He couldn't understand it…not completely…Hawke was ruthless. He knew this. But he had seen mages become like this time and time again. It was simply the result of years of being hunted and forced to hide simply because they were born with something they had no choice in. Yet despite her cold, even sometimes callous resolve, he always thought there was some semblance of balance in everything she did.

But with Fenris….

Justice had taken hold of his forethoughts in that instance. For the delusional spirit, it was merely an opportunity for an usurper, someone that consistently spoke out against everything the spirit and Anders were trying to achieve, to be removed. Never mind the fact that it was a comrade of several years or that he was to be thrown back into slavery…. Ever since coming to this city, Anders cringed from saying those callous words aloud.

And as much as he despised the elf…the truth was he would not wish a fate like that on anyone…no matter how much of a beast they were. It just…it made no sense.

In the beginning, when he first met Hawke and the Fenris, he could see the other mage eyeing the elf with interest. Yet despite all his arguments, all his insistencies, Hawke would not listen to him. She had always curried favor with the warrior. But perhaps in some ways, it had made sense. Fenris's only feral, vindictive nature seemed to compliment the fire mage's own mercilessness.

Some would think that Hawke's actions in the Hanged Man that day were the result of being spurned by the elf, but even then…. Hawke never forgot a grudge, but she wasn't petty. Yet even if they were not sharing a bed together and were still constantly at odds over the affairs of mages, the elf still held some sort of tentative loyalty to her…if you could call it even that.

In that instant, Anders understood. He looked back up at Hawke, but she had still refused to face him. All the while, he could sense the pieces falling into place.

Bitterly he chuckled at the notion as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "So the Chantry. The mage revolts. Me and Justice's downward spiral…those were just coincidences. Those were just more messes along the road that you decided to clean up."

"Isabella fled," Hawke stated as she rolled several articles of clothing into tiny balls. "Aveline returned to Ferelden with her husband. Sebastian…reclaimed his throne, I believe, if only to seek vengeance on me. Varric and Merrill…well I just assumed he would keep an eye on her. But you…" She stopped and stared at the few items she had left scattered on the bed. "I knew you wouldn't survive without me. But then you were so eager to come even when I told you where I intended to go and seemed half-delirious after the battle. I just wasn't sure if you fully understood it at the time. I simply assumed it was just your blind loyalty."

Not seeming to care, Hawke shoved the last few articles into the rucksack and made to leave through the door behind him, but again he stopped her. "No, Hawke. You can't just run away from this."

"It isn't as if it is any different than from before, Anders," she replied evenly. "I've always been running whether it's been from Templars, the Blight, and now agents of the Chantry. It's always been the same."

"No it hasn't," he retorted heatedly. "It hasn't because…"

"Of Kirkwall?" she asked. She scoffed bitterly as she shook her head, "Everyone we knew in Kirkwall is either dead or scattered to the winds because I couldn't face the consequences of what I brought about."

"That isn't true. I'm still here."

"Anders…you always spoke about coming to this city one day. And for you, it was the right choice. I think…I believe that Euthymius can cure you, or at least come to something that's close to it. Both he and Feynriel can show you the ins and outs of this place better than I can. It's just…better this way."

"Why?"

"Because, I know that if you stay with me…one way or another, you'll be dead. It's simply…it's simply what happens."

"That isn't true."

"Yes it is," she attempted to shoulder past him, but he ended up grabbing the bag off her shoulder.

Throwing it aside, Anders rounded on her, "Damn it, Marian, for once make a decision that isn't selfish"

"What did you say to me?" she seethed as the candles in the room burned brightly for a brief moment.

"I spoke clearly enough," Anders replied stoically. "Don't say you're doing this for my benefit when we both know that isn't the truth."

She held her ground, but the icy glare she gave him spoke volumes. He was actually surprised that her hands were alit in flames at this moment. Instead, she took a slow step towards him as her eyes narrowed on him.

"Tell me something Anders…do you ever have to remember the time when you were ten years old, and hid in the forest while a group of Templars ran down your father like a dog?" He was confused by her question, but before he could even reply, she cut him off. "Did you have to stand on the other side of a field as a horde of darkspawn came down on you and watch as one of them pummeled your sister to death?"

"I know you-"

"And then after all of that, go to a city, scrape a living in the slums, do everything in you power, including getting blood on your hands, just to protect what family you had left?"

"Hawke…that isn't-"

"But after all of that…you realize that your efforts were simply for nothing because in the end, darkspawn and a lunatic bloodmage would end up taking even that from you." He didn't try to take back what he said at this point. Already he could feel the heat wafting off the mage in waves. Any moment now, he was sure she was going to strike out at him. "I scraped a living out of nothing in Lowtown. I willingly bloodied my hands just to make sure my family would survive…and still it wasn't enough." In that instance, he saw her falter. In that instance…he wanted to reach out to her, but it was gone just as quickly. Shaking her head, Hawke began to step away from him. "Don't say I was selfish in what I did. I was simply tired of the bloodshed…. I couldn't protect them then. And I can't protect you now."

With that, she turned to leave again, but as her hand reached for the door, the healer called out to her. "I…I can't remember the place I was born or much else of how I grew up before the Circle," he stated almost pitifully but she paused regardless. "Even those days along with my time as a Warden as still so hazy. But with you Hawke…the feeling I have being with you is as close to being at home that I've come to know."

Without turning to him, she replied, "You're…you're a fool, Anders."

"I know. I've been told that on many occasions. But I'd rather be a content, happy fool, than be right and utterly miserable."

He stepped forward and forced her to face him, yet she held her ground. That set, determined glint in her eye was almost challenging, but he didn't shy away from it. Instead, he smiled at her in that same way he used to every time she stepped into his clinic in Darktown just to check on him.

He reached up, half-expecting her to burn his arm, but surprisingly, she allowed him to brush his fingers against her cheek and neck. Her hair was so beautiful…. To both is surprise and utter relief, she sighed softly as her eyes closed.

She grabbed the back of his hand and held it to her. Without looking up at him, she replied, "Anders…you're going to regret this."

And when her eyes shot up to meet his, he knew she intended to prove that to him with every fiber of her being.

x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x

It felt like being in the midst of a tempest. However, there were no howling winds or bolts of lightning. But the sound of Hawke's breathy cries and the feel of her heat on his skin…it was akin to it. Before he realized what he had brought upon himself, the woman had pushed him onto the bed, was on top of him, and had already removed his belt while being in the midst of divesting him of his coat.

Anders could recall with some notion that he had had lovers in the past. How many, he was unsure of, yet he knew they varied. However he doubted he had ever shared a bed with someone like Hawke. Such an experience would be…hard to forget.

The moment they were bare and amidst the sheets, it was like a challenge or maybe even a light skirmish. He wasn't sure. Hawke immediately secured her place on top of him, and even as she ravaged his mouth, her heavily lidded eyes gazed down at him as if waiting for his next move.

But instead of meeting that challenge, he eagerly yielded to her. He had no qualms of where he was, whether it was above her or beneath her. The only thing that mattered to him was that he was with her.

There was a brief moment where she seemed put-off by his demure restraint, yet it passed quickly. As he suspected, she seized control of the moment while he did his best to keep pace. Everywhere she touched him, it seemed like a game. A stray hand placed on his upper arm for balance would then hold onto him. Then her grip would tighten. And then it would tighten even more until he was forced to either flex his arm to dislodge her or cry out. He would then catch a coy laugh or a slight smirk. However it only amused him as well.

Her touch was hot, almost burning. As a mage that preferred to use fire while in battles, Anders was not surprised by this. As much as she tormented and teased him, she would return moments later with a soothing kiss or caress. But what did take him aback was the woman's strength. Several times, he made a subtle attempt to reciprocate her touches only to be forced back down.

However, Anders attention was abruptly turned to Hawke and her own hands. Before he could realize what she was doing, she had reached behind herself and seized his already engorged member. His hips bucked into her at the bold display, and with a cunning smirk, she rolled her hips back until he was set deep inside.

Anders let out a low moan as he immersed himself in the feeling of her. In the back of his mind, the spirit was writhing as well, but the healer desperately kept that part of his mind sealed off as best he could. For tonight, for this moment, Hawke was his and no one else's.

Once more the fire mage above him quickly took the lead as she dictated the pace. There were soon in sync with an instinctual motion, but already he could see the toll he was doing to Hawke. Even now, she was gasping softly as her hands began to tremble on his shoulders. With an almost smug grin, Anders reached down and softly brushed up against where they were joined.

He was not above using magic in bed. In fact, he couldn't think of a reason not to. Yet despite it being a harmless tingle, Hawke reared back for a moment and stared at him wild-eyed. However, instead of pulling back, he merely continued and even added to his efforts.

Hawke shuddered as she lost her hold at that point. Letting out a weak cry, her arms buckled slightly beneath her as her eyes fluttered shut.

"And…ers…" she gasped weakly, but he could sense she was failing. Mimicking the same spell in his other hand, he snaked up her side and cupped her breast. The woman keened at the contact, and Anders took the opportunity to roll her under him.

She writhed and almost seemed to try to fight to get above him once more. But Anders did not abate in his magic. He leaned down as Hawke continued to pant heavily, "Shh, Hawke. Let me take care of you."

Her defiant gaze was fiery, yet as he continued to caress her body with his magic, he could see some of that boldness began to abate. Finally, as Anders set himself deep and rolled his hips into her, Hawke let out a throaty moan as her eyes slipped closed. For a brief moment, Anders felt as if he had achieved some small victory…then Hawke's eyes snapped open as she seized him by the hair, forcefully pulled him down to her, and savagely claimed his mouth.

Her nails racked across his back. Her teeth bit into his lip. She pushed him. Demanded everything from him. It was almost as if she was trying to drive him away and out of her bed. Yet he didn't care. He endured every scrape, every bit, and gave into her every demand. And while Hawke was not as dainty as some women, she was no Avaline. Anders's form easily encompassed hers so that at times, he found himself worrying if he had gone too far. But all he had to do was look up into that electric blue gaze to know he hadn't.

Again, Hawke seized him by the back of his hair and pulled him down to her. Despite her quivering breath, her intent was clear. "Anders…harder." He smirked down at her, but did not alter his pace. "Damn it, Anders…don't make me beg."

To the former Champion's disgust, Anders actually began to slow down. He leaned towards her and placed gentle kisses along her cheek and forehead, but Hawke was having none of it. "Anders!"

With a throaty chuckle, he leaned back as he continued to study her intently. "I wouldn't dream of having you beg, Hawke." His hand gently traced the curve of her rear as it moved up her thigh. "I'm merely savoring the moment."

Hawke tried to move her hips, but the blasted healer had most of his weight against her and was practically pinning her to the bed. "As much as I'm sure you're enjoying this," she panted, "I would be enjoying it more if you weren't treating me like some percaline doll."

"Hmm, percaline isn't this warm…or this wet…" he replied with a cavalier grin, "or this malleable."

Anders's hand had reached behind her knee and had slowly brought it towards him. He guided her leg further up until it was resting on his shoulder. Hawke's quizzical expression suddenly vanished as Anders pressed himself into her, but before she could adjust to the new angle, the healer began to rock into her with extreme vigor. He was able to rip a silent scream from the other mage as her head arched back. Her fingers tore into the sheets as she struggled to catch her breath.

"And now, Hawke?" he grunted. "Am I too being too gentle now?"

Hawke's almost listless eyes, blinked up at him as she managed to gasp, "N-No…Maker Anders…" His ego thoroughly stroked, Anders grinned down at her. He took her arms and encouraged her to wrap them around his neck and shoulders. He leaned his forehead onto hers as he continued to drive them to that sweet completion. "Maker…whatever you do…don't stop."

That was the last thing on his mind. Her fluttering hold on him was so tight, it was near painful. Yet he didn't care…seeing the myriad looks of pleasure on her face now filled him with a fervent need. Suddenly, her body arched up into his with an ecstatic cry, and then just as abruptly, he felt himself being thrown over the edge.

Briefly, Anders thought he saw a flash of blue light, but before he could discern it completely, he felt his body give out. Throwing himself to the side so as not to crush Hawke, Anders endured the small spikes of pain shooting up from the back of his head as he wistfully gazed at her.

'Maker…she is beautiful,' he thought to himself.

Her skin, though slightly scarred from so many battles, was lightly sun-kissed from the many days they spent traipsing up and down the Wounded Coast. Even now, he thought he could still feel the warmth waft off from her. Her eyes were closed, and though she seemed utterly content, she sighed softly as she abruptly turned her back to him.

"So that…'electricity thing' was what Isabela was always raving about," she murmured softly without turning back to face him.

Despite her sudden aloofness, he smirked at her comment. He sidled closer and reached out to place his hand on hers. When she did not pull away, he took it as a good sign.

"Hawke…" She did not reply. She didn't even try to turn her head. "Marian." He saw her eyes close, but still she did not look at him.

"Marian…why did you want to leave?"

With just a subtle movement, her other hand came up to grasp his. "I messed up, Anders. I thought…I thought I could do things right by Euthymius. After what Feynriel did for us and what Euthymius did for you…I wanted to make things right for Feynriel." Her hand tightened around his. Perhaps it was his imagination, but she thought he felt her shudder. "The night we went to Denarius's estate…I found Kiol. I confronted him. And I nearly go myself killed because of it. Anders…he isn't like any bloodmage we've encountered before. He is beyond psychotic…but worst of all, not only did I fail to do anything, but he knew about you Anders…about Justice. In the end, I only brought more attention to you."

"And what, did you think if you left he would forget about me and Justice?"

"I thought if I left," Hawke replied, "that he would feel that a mild threat had moved on."

"I doubt it would have been that simple," Anders stated.

Like before, she had gone silent again. However, as he gazed down at her, he could still see an almost distant gaze in her eyes. She was lost in a memory again and thinking deeply of the past. It was something he had notice back in Kirkwall. She would do it more and more ever since her mother died…ever since she sent Fenris away.

With a bitter smile, he nuzzled the back of her neck. She stiffened at the small gesture but then slowly eased into the contact.

Without thinking, he blurted out, "I was always jealous of him. No matter what kind of spiteful drivel he spouted about mages and magic, no matter how many times he left you, you still cared for him."

She blinked slowly at the darkened room and softly replied, "Anders…not now. Please."

He reached out and ran his hand over her bare arm and up along her shoulder. "Hawke…don't leave."

She still did not turn to face him, but he could sense her growing ire. "What is it you wish for me to say, Anders?

"That you'll stay."

"…nothing good will come of this, Anders."

"You don't know that. Perhaps it will, perhaps it won't. It's not fair to anticipate one and not the other."

Again he was met with utter silence. And just when he thought she had resigned herself to this state, Hawke briskly turned until she was straddling him once more. She leaned in close as if to kiss him but then held off. She seemed to be searching for something as she stared into his eyes, yet he didn't know what.

"I can't promise that I won't leave this city," she stated. "But…I'll keep my promise…I won't try to leave you behind again. Will that satisfy you?"

A sudden burst of utterly relief blossomed in his chest. He smiled up at her, and for the first time this night, she smiled back. As he reached up and softly coaxed her down so that they could close that small space between them, he murmured, "More than enough, Hawke."

A/N and Summary: Ugh…why was this so hard to write? I don't particularly find anything wrong with this pairing, but at the same time…it was like my brain had gone on strike and that stupid blinking cursor…I swear it was taunting me this whole time.

Anyway, here's the gist of things: In in this scene, Hawke's guilt over her past actions as well as her frightening encounter with Kiol, spur her to flee the city and leave Anders behind believing he's safer without her.

Instead of simply allowing her to leave, Anders confronts her, and in a heated argument, he realizes that the reason she came here initially was to find Fenris and not solely to help him break his bond with Justice. This confuses Anders since Hawke was the one to send Fenris away in the first place, but eventually, it dawns on the healer why Hawke betrayed Fenris. However, it is never said outright by either of them in this chapter (so it is still somewhat unclear to the readers why at this point).

Eventually the two reconcile and Anders convinces Hawke to stay regardless of the threat Kiol poses for them.