Unsteady Ground

Anders awoke with the bed next to him empty. His heart racing in his chest with worry, he scanned the room and found her sitting in a chair facing the mostly dying embers of the night's fire. She was naked, skin gloriously amber hued from the first licks of flame starting to stir to life on the newly laid pieces of wood. One foot pulled up onto the chair as she hugged it and stared into the fireplace. She looked pensive.

"Couldn't sleep, my love?"

She started a little at the sound of his voice, and for some reason it made worry burrow into his gut. When she turned to look at him, though, it was with a soft smile, "I didn't want to wake you." Her eyes skimmed over his body and he watched as her cheeks flushed.

He should be pleased, shouldn't he? She was obviously thinking about what lie under the sheet he was still covered with, but it just increased his uneasy feeling. "Is everything alright?" It wasn't, he could feel it. Something was wrong.

A wry smile lifted the corner of her lips this time, "I'm just not very good at sleeping."

A chronic insomniac himself he could relate. A glance out the window showed it wasn't even close to dawn. Looking back to her he found her gaze on the fire again. Deciding he'd rather be with her he pushed himself out of the bed.

Her head whipped around at the sound of him moving, "Anders, what are you doing? Its hours before dawn."

He settled cross legged on the floor at her feet, "Exactly, hours I can spend with you before the world intrudes again." He leaned forward and kissed her knee before taking her foot and starting to rub it gently.

She shifted, but didn't pull away. Her eyes were wary as she watched him caressing her foot. Should he ask what had her awake or would she get upset at him for prying? He wanted to share everything with her, but sometimes Sekhmet liked to keep things to herself. For now, he kept his silence, massaging her foot and watching the growing firelight play over her skin and hair.

Sekhmet mostly watched the fire, taking long slow breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. He recognized her breathing pattern; perhaps she was more upset than he thought. Everytime she looked at him though he saw the unmistakable spark of desire in her eyes. Underneath it was a thread of unease, so he made no attempt to kindle that spark into anything.

He finished with her foot, kissing her instep gently. She stiffened and Anders felt his worry form into a hard stone, now he needed to know. "Sekhmet, what's wrong love?"

Her cheeks flamed red, "Nothing."

He rose up to his knees and moved close to look into her eyes. "Please, don't lie to me." She tried to look away from him but he gently cupped her chin, "Talk to me love. I can't fix it if I don't know what I've done." He had an inkling what it might be, but hoped he was wrong. He didn't like the idea of having pushed her into something she didn't want to do.

She shrugged, eyes darting away, "It's alright, really."

"Clearly, it's not." He stroked her cheek, "Please, tell me what it is. I can fix this, I know I can. Whatever it is, I'll fix it." His thoughts turned desperate as fear of losing her clawed at him.

"I…" She shivered and tried to pull away again and again he held her steady. "What we…what we did yesterday. I don't want to do that again."

He'd been right, he'd pushed her too much, shown her too much of his depraved desires and had scared her off. "I'm so sorry, love." He whispered, ashamed and horrified by what he'd done.

She scowled, "No, don't apologize. I…I'm not sure I could do it again."

"Of course, never again, I promise." It was a quick and deadly serious vow. He'd be a perfect gentleman for her from now on, soft and sweet and gentle. He'd been the one she'd invited to her bed. He'd been the one she'd somehow, miraculously, fallen in love with. So, it was up to him to be the prince she deserved.

She paused, her brow furrowing more. "Anders, you didn't do anything wrong. I liked what we did; I'm just not sure I could do it again."

He just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. She was trying to make him feel better, again. She wasn't the first woman disgusted by his twisted desires. But, she'd be the last. He'd make it up to her; he'd be the sweetest and most tender lover she'd ever had. And maybe, just maybe she'd decide not to end things between them.

She slid out of the chair and into his lap, wrapping her pale legs around his waist and circling her arms around his neck. "I mean it Anders, I liked it." She leaned forward and kissed him.

He hesitated for a moment, readjusting his approach to kissing her. No longer would he suffocate her with his hungry, needy kisses. He kept it slow and sweet, languid even.

She broke the kiss to kiss his neck, pulling herself tighter against him. "Make love to me again, Anders?"

He hummed in pleasure; at least she was willing to let him try again "Of course, my lady." He stood with her still clinging to him and walked to the bed, placing her gently on the mattress before climbing in himself. His fingers and his lips trailed over her skin softly, gently, bringing her to peak before he made love to her, tenderly.

And when they were done he folded her against his chest to hold her, to encircle her protectively. He may not be able to stop her from running headlong into danger every day, but he could protect her here, he could protect her from himself. He inhaled the scent of her hair, "I'll become the man you deserve, love, I swear it."

He was pleased when she fell back to sleep, cuddled against him. Listening to her soft breaths even managed to lull him back to sleep eventually. And he was so pleasantly awoken by gentle kisses later, when the sun finally graced the sky.

He smiled around the light presses of her lips, "Morning," he murmured.

"Morning," she slid off the bed and crossed to open the curtains wide, letting sunlight pour across the room. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes and missed her crossing back to the bed. She pulled the blankets off him then just stood at the end of the bed with the most ridiculous smile on her lips.

He quirked his lips, amused. "See something you like, love?"

Her smile widened, "Every inch," it was a soft sigh on her lips.

He felt his body responding to her approval. He watched her as she walked closer, moving up the side of the bed until she was standing beside him. With a smile still on her lips she reached out pulled his hair gently from under his hand fanning it out around him.

"I was right." She breathed, sounding oddly awed.

"Right?" Seemed his love was in an interesting mood today.

She nodded, "You look like some sort of glorious sun god, calling forth the morning."

He laughed a deep, hearty laugh. "A sun god? I think lack of sleep has muddled your mind. I spend most of my time in the sewers, in case you've forgotten."

She giggled, "I know where you spend your time, darling. I still think you look like a sun god, but even gods have work to do. So get that sexy little ass of yours up." She turned to head for her desk. "There's tea on the table beside you. I have some correspondence I have to deal with and a couple other things this morning, not to mention I need to take another bath. I still reek of sex. I'll see you when I'm done?"

He stretched, "Of course."


Dressed, hair brushed and looking presentable finally he headed downstairs. He was headed to the kitchen to see what he could snag for breakfast when he heard Leandra humming in the library. Now was as good a time as any to talk to her about his chest mysteriously showing up in Sekhmet's bedroom.

"Good morning, Leandra." He decided for calm, instead of his first reaction which had been anger.

She paused; fitting a ribbon into the book she was reading and closing it carefully before turning her attention to him. Her smile was hesitant and he supposed that was confession enough wasn't it? Why else would she be wary of speaking with him?

"Good morning, Anders. You're looking well this morning."

He settled himself down in the chair opposite her, "I wanted to ask you about something odd in Sekhmet's room."

She straightened up a little bit, sitting taller, an air of nobility settling over her. "And what might that be?"

"Did you send someone to break into my clinic and fetch my things?" He stayed calm and worked hard to keep as much disdainful accusation out of his voice as possible. He liked Leandra, he hoped they could deal with this without it erupting into an argument.

She flashed him a devious little smile. "Of course not, don't be absurd."

The remnants of his anger threatened to flare back to life. "Then how did they end up in Sekhmet's room?"

Her smile widened a little more, "I was under the impression that the room now belonged to the two of you?"

Was she seriously trying to steer the conversation away from the issue at hand? "That's not really the point. How did my things get here, Leandra?"

She scowled at him, "Don't use that lecturing tone with me, Anders."

He sighed, reminding himself he wasn't going to fight with her. He nodded faintly, "I apologize for the tone, but the question remains."

"Bodahn and I fetched your things for you. We know how busy you and Sekhmet have been lately and we wanted to help." It was said innocently enough, but from the look on her face she had known he would be upset.

And it wasn't just that she had fetched his belongings without his consent. It was worse than that. "Are you crazy? You can't go traipsing about Darktown, you could have been killed." Sekhmet would have killed him slowly and painfully if Leandra had died in an attempt to bring his belongings to the estate.

She snorted, "I've been defending myself and this family for a great many years, Anders. And Bodahn travelled with the Hero of Ferelden during the Blight. We are both more than capable of looking after ourselves while we bring a few things up through the basement."

He'd forgotten about the basement entrance to be completely honest. And though it wasn't as dangerous as walking through Darktown, it didn't change the fact that the clinic was still in Darktown and they still could have been hurt or worse. "You couldn't have waited for me to bring my things up myself?" His tone was sharp and reproving, she'd put herself into danger for no real reason.

Her eyes turned hard and her posture became rigid when she spoke. "I am not my daughter. I will not be patient and forgiving while you try to stay away from her under some false sense of duty." She inched forward in the seat, pinning him with a glare. "Give her everything or leave Kirkwall altogether and let her grieve and try to move on."

He hadn't been expecting such a volatile reaction from her. Especially, not considering how warm and welcoming she'd been to him since he and Sekhmet had started their odd little relationship. "Leandra, all I was asking for was a little patience."

She stood, crossing the room to stand over where he was seated. "No, you were asking to hurt her." Her voice was like ice, a cold cascade of fury. "How long, Anders? When do you think would be a 'safer' time?" She was truly on a tirade now. "It doesn't exist and you well know it. You're more than happy to enjoy the benefits of the estate: availing yourself of the books we have, indulging in the food Orana prepares, benefiting from the safety these walls and her money provides. " She gestured at him with a sneer as she continued, "And you're clearly enjoying the comfort of Sekhmet's bed. I understand it's difficult for you to marry her, especially in Kirkwall, but I'll be damned if I let you make my daughter your whore." With that she stormed out of the room.

Anders sat there stunned, unable to even speak. Nausea pooled low in his gut. His whore? Was that really what his refusal to move in looked like? That he was using Sekhmet? After a bit of thought he supposed it might. And was it really any surprise? Using people, fucking them and fucking them over were what he was good at. It was how he'd survived for most of his life.

He closed his eyes and took a long shuddering breath. He wasn't that man anymore though, couldn't be that man anymore. He loved Sekhmet and he'd give her everything, every bit of him that he could for as long as she wanted him.

Pushing out of the chair he left the library and jogged up the steps two at a time. He slipped into Sekhmet's room…their room, and saw she must still be in the bath. He wanted to see her though, wanted to make sure she understood that he loved her, it seemed so very important now. Thankfully, the door to the bathing chamber was unlocked so he went in.

She jerked her head up to look at him, hand skating over her pale skin with a wet washing cloth, and a smile curving her dark lips. It was such a small thing, a simple smile melting him inside. And her voice was soft, when she spoke to him. "Can I help you, love?"

He smiled back at her, stepping out of his slippers as a mad idea struck him. "No, I'm beyond help." He moved to the tub and lowered himself inside, feeling the warm water soak through his clothes as he straddled her legs, splashing water over the sides. "I'm hopelessly, helplessly in love with you."

She was giggling at him, clearly amused by his insane antics. But, she turned her head away when he tried to kiss her. "Anders, your clothes."

And how lost was he? It actually hurt when she turned away, denied him the pleasure of her soft lips, even if she was merely teasing him. "Who cares? Kiss me already, you heartless woman."

She giggled again but let him kiss her this time. He kissed her long and slow and sweet. Was it possible to make her understand how he felt with a single kiss? He doubted it, but it didn't stop him from trying. He moved and cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb, pouring his heart out to her in a language he was far more eloquent with.

"What's gotten into you?" She asked breathlessly when he finally broke his kiss.

He simply smiled, what could he possibly say? He'd just needed her. Needed to reassure himself that she knew he loved her, was absolutely crazy about her, couldn't imagine his life without her in it now. "I just wanted to tell you that I love you."

A new fit of giggles as she kissed the tip of his long nose. "For that you had to crawl into the tub completely dressed?"

He chuckled, a little embarrassed in retrospect that he had done something so silly and impulsive. "When I saw you I couldn't help myself. I decided to show you instead. Did it work?"

Another soft smile, but it was sweet, adoring. "You're a complete loon, do you know that?"

"Yes," he did, but he didn't care as long as she stayed at his side, "but you still love me, don't you?"

She gave a dramatic sigh, "Yes, I do…quite rather a lot, actually."

He kissed her again, savoring the feeling of her lips against his, the taste of her mouth, the softness and smallness that was her. He pulled back with a grin, "Good, now that we've established that, I'll get out of here and let you finish your bath."

She was still smiling, that adoring gaze fixed on him. "I was actually getting ready to get out."

That look made him feel ten feet tall and invincible, made him feel like a king among men. That look made him suddenly understand the impossible things, both great and horrific that men were willing to do for a woman they loved. And for a brief moment he wondered whether he and Sekhmet would build a new world, or just burn this one to the ground together.

He shook his head, dislodging the disturbing thought and climbed out of the tub dripping everywhere. He snagged a towel and started to dry off. "I'm going down to the clinic. I have a few more things I want to bring back here tonight, but I should open the clinic today. Want to join me?" He tried not to put too much hope into his voice.

She stood and climbed out as well, "I'll come by later. I want to check in on a few things today. But first, you're going to help me clean up some of this water."

He stripped off his wet clothes; they'd only make their job more difficult. "Happily."

It took them way longer to clean the floor than it should have. They were both distracted, touching each other and kissing. Not to arouse or tease but just enjoying some light physical affection.

By the time they finished his skin was chilled and he was looking forward to putting some warm, dry clothes on. Sekhmet quickly grabbed some clothes from her wardrobe and stood, warming herself in front of the fire while she pulled them on. He took out his other set and tugged them on quickly while watching her.

He settled down into the oversized chair in front of the fire and motioned for her to join him when she finished. She happily did, climbing into his lap, tucking her cold, socked feet under his leg while she curled up against his chest. He pulled her close, rubbing his hands up and down her arms briskly to warm her. "Sweetheart, I can feel how cold you are through your tunic. Why didn't you get dressed sooner?"

She kissed his cheek, "I was having fun, besides, this is a great excuse to cuddle with you some more."

He shook his head and smiled at her, "You don't need an excuse to cuddle me, love. I'm always more than happy to hold you."

She snuggled against him and pulled his arms tight around her. "Good."

They sat there for a while, cuddling and enjoying the warmth and talking. He loved talking with Sekhmet, especially when they were alone. When it was just the two of them she relaxed, not playing a role but just being herself. He liked how animated she always was when she talked about something that was of particular interest to her.

And when she shifted on his lap, eyes alight and started speaking again, he knew it was something important. "I've wanted to talk to you about some information about Kirkwall I've found on these scraps of…I don't know…almost like a diary. Been finding them scattered around the city since I got here. I've been doing some research; I wanted to know if the author was just mad before I talked to you about…"

Bodahn's voice interrupted through the door. "Mistress Hawke, the elf is here with another message."

He wasn't sure which to react to first, that they obviously weren't going to talk about whatever it was she'd uncovered, or that Fenris was down stairs. He curbed his desire to demand Sekhmet throw Fenris out of the estate. And managed to stifle some of his disappointment at having his alone time with her interrupted.


Sekhmet's stomach clenched. She'd hoped to have a few more hours of peace with Anders before dealing with Fenris and the messages. And she was finally going to ask him what he thought about the possibility of glyphs being built right into the structure of the city. Now, that would have to wait.

Anders didn't say a word but his jaw was set hard and his back had stiffened. He was clearly furious. The man's ego was a prickly and fragile thing. She needed the message though and couldn't just send Fenris away.

"Yeah, alright. I'll be down in a few minutes." She called back.

"I take it by 'the elf' he means Fenris?" Each word was as sharp and prickly as a dart.

She nodded.

"So, what kind of message does he have for you?" His eyes were so intense.

It was now or never. She wasn't going to lie to Anders. She just hoped he understood that she couldn't ask her informant to put himself into more jeopardy than he already was. "I…uh…have an informant within the Gallows. Fenris runs messages back and forth for me."

He shifted underneath her, "Isn't he a bit conspicuous?"

She shrugged, Fenris' lyrium tattoos had actually been a blessing. "The Templars like him and are fascinated by his markings. He has a regular card game with them."

Anders words were clipped, anger in every syllable. "So he's fraternizing with the Templars? Isn't that dangerous for you and I, not to mention Merrill?"

Carefully, she tried to soothe him. "You don't need to worry about him giving information to the Templars, Anders, I promise."

He shook his head, teeth flashing, "I can't believe you trust that beast."

She was tired of this fight between him and Fenris. She eased herself off Anders' lap without another word. She wasn't going to sit there and argue with him. He and Fenris hated each other so much they were both painfully, willfully blind to how much alike they really were. She jogged down the steps and found Fenris squatting to pet Tyr.

He stood when he saw her, one of his rare smiles lighting his face. "Hawke, glad to see you well, my friend."

Tension eased from her and she smiled, "You look good too. Tired, but good." At least he was in good mood.

Another quick smile and gone again in a blink. "Isabela invited herself to cards last night."

She nearly laughed at the idea, "That must have been interesting." She couldn't imagine what a card game with Izzy and the Templars would look like.

He nodded, "Very." He handed her a sealed message. "He says Meredith has a bee in her bonnet about some rogue Templar, but nothing urgent."

She took the message; she'd look at it later. "Yeah, I know about the Templar, he was torturing Qunari. It's been dealt with."

He nodded and fell quiet for a moment. Normally, she'd invite him in for a bite to eat and some tea but wasn't sure it was a good idea with Anders upstairs. She was just thankful Anders was staying out of sight for now and letting her deal with this in her own way.

Fenris shifted from foot to foot, looking decidedly uncomfortable suddenly. "There was something else I wanted to speak to you about." When he spoke his voice was quiet and hesitant.

There was no way this could be a good thing. "Alright, I'm listening."

"Its Anders…" he started.

Anders' laughter trailed down from the mezzanine cutting Fenris off. "Me? Oh, this should be good. Carry on, I want to hear this."

Of course Anders would choose that moment to come out of the room. And he looked so damn smug she could slap him. At least he was staying at the top of the stairs. Fenris looked nearly apoplectic. She was sure if Anders even tried to come down the stairs Fenris would launch himself straight at her darling mage.

"What is the abomination doing here?" He was glaring at her now with accusatory eyes. Then his eyes widened with realization. "That's what Justice meant, why Anders won't leave you alone. You've taken this monster as your lover." He was hissing at her, as viscous as a viper. "How the Void am I supposed to protect you if you invite demons into your bed?"

"Fenris, stop!" Who the fuck did Fenris think he was? He had no right to come into her house and call Anders a monster.

"Venhedis." The seething elf spun on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him.

Anders' voice, a touch more sober drifted down the stairs, "Well, that went better than I thought."

She turned to glare at Anders, "You couldn't leave well enough alone could you? Couldn't just let me tell him my own way."

He came down the stairs and she had to resist her own urge to attack him, maybe smack some sense into his head. He spoke calmly, "And under just what circumstances do you suppose he would have taken it better?"

She had no idea, but something had to have been better than that debacle. "We'll never know now, will we?"

He kissed the top of her head, "It's done. Now you can concentrate on sweet talking him and stroking his prickly little ego."

She snorted at him. "You're one to be talking about ego."

He smiled faintly, "You're right."

She couldn't help a little laugh, "Now you're accommodating?"

"For you? Yes." He traced his finger over her tattoo. "I'm sorry, perhaps that wasn't the best way to handle the situation." He moved closer, filling her nostrils with his cold mountain lake scent, making her tingle all the way to her toes.

She wondered if he had any idea what that smell did to her, what his proximity did to her. Maybe he did, and that's why he was doing it now. She sighed in resignation, unable to hold onto her anger in the face of him being conciliatory. "You two are going to drive me mad."

He raised an amused brow, "Knowing your friends as I do, I confess I'm surprised you didn't go mad years ago." He touched the message still clasped in her hand. "So, what's the message?"

And now they were going to get right back into another argument. "Don't know, I'll take a look later."

"You don't want me to know?" He looked hurt.

She wanted to beg him to leave it alone, but she had to give him at least some kind of explanation. "My source is trusting me to keep his identity a secret, and I am."

Anders' scowl deepened as he turned towards the fire, "But Fenris knows?"

She followed him, leaning her head against his shoulder, trying to reassure him. "He approached Fenris to bring me the messages, not the other way around. It's nothing personal, love."

He nodded, even though she could tell he wasn't completely convinced. "Fine, but you will share the message with me?"

She nodded, knowing he wasn't going to want to hear what she had to say, but hoping he would understand. Anders was as volatile as she was when it came to Templars. "As long as it's not information that can be traced directly back to him. I know you'd feel the need to act on it immediately regardless of whether you put him into danger or not."

Anders looked down at her, scowling. "It's just a Templar, Sekhmet."

Which, had kind of been her first reaction. Thankfully, she'd taken some time to think about what an opportunity this could be if she were smart about it. "Yeah, and that's short sighted. If Meredith finds him out and kills him we'll have lost our only reliable inside source of information." She could see him caving, realizing she was right.

He let out a deep sigh, "Right, okay, fine."

She kissed him quick. "Good, let's go get some food. We both have things to do today."


Once Anders was gone she headed to Fenris' mansion. She had a gift for him and she was hoping to try to patch things up a little between them. She didn't want him feeling alienated or unwelcome in her home just because Anders was there. Anders was going to have to get used to having Sekhmet's friends stopping by the estate.

She jogged up the steps to the room he usually stayed in. He was pacing up and down, shirtless and bottle in hand, skin tight leggings, his hair disheveled and falling in his face, while he was muttering to himself. She stayed where she was for a moment, watching him. She'd never seen him this uncovered.

The lyrium etched into his skin had been applied by an obviously skilled hand. It looked almost like filigree metal work, and in an awful way she supposed it was. The white-silver of the lyrium stood out in stark contrast to his dark skin. It flashed in the sunlight from the open window as his skin slid over his heavily muscled body. The stark cut lines of his body looked more like stone than flesh. She wondered how he stayed in such fantastic shape and how did he hide it under his seemingly flimsy armor?

"Hawke, you're staring." She hadn't noticed him looking at her. And, was that a smile on his lips?

She smiled, "Yeah, I guess I am. Sorry." She wasn't sorry, not for appreciating how beautiful he was at least. She was sorry that she was admiring something that caused him such pain.

He shrugged, still looking faintly amused. "I'm getting used to it."

She felt her smile widen. She liked him like this, confident and finding some peace about his body looking like artwork. "Izzy's good for you."

He scoffed, "Izzy's not good for anyone."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself to talk with Fenris about Anders. "About earlier…"

He raised his hand to cut her off. "It's not my business, Hawke. Just be careful."

She nodded, "I don't want you to feel like you have to stay away." Perhaps it was better just to leave it alone.

He laughed, quiet but still a laugh. "Are you joking? If he thought to scare me by…" His eyes ran over her face for a brief moment, and she could see him curbing his tongue, "becoming part of your life, he's sadly mistaken. You'll be seeing plenty of me."

She wasn't sure how to feel about that. He sounded good natured about it, but considering how much he and Anders disliked each other it could make her life decidedly more difficult if he was planning on popping in often. She supposed she'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

She slid her pack from her shoulders and crossed to where he was now nonchalantly leaning against the wall, looking like a beautiful statue. "I have a gift for you."

"Trying to buy my affections?" At least he was still smiling. It changed his whole face when he smiled, made him look younger, almost boyish, all his bitterness washed away. And the beautiful green of his eyes lightened as well.

"Actually, I found it, but it made me think of you." She pulled it out and handed the book over to Fenris.

His smile evaporated as he took the book tentatively. He caressed his fingers over the leather, but mostly looked confused.

Unsure about his reaction she tried to clarify why she'd given it to him. "It's a book about Shartan."

He flushed a little, "Slaves are not permitted to read in the Imperium."

Ah, that's what the trepidation was about. "Then I guess it's a good thing you're no longer a slave."

"Hawke," it was a soft admonishment.

"What? This isn't Tevinter and I happen to be an incredible teacher."

After a long moment he nodded. "And it will be a good excuse to come to the estate and make sure you and your mother are safe."

A faint flicker of annoyance washed over her, but she pushed it away. Maybe, if she was really lucky, seeing her and Anders together would calm Fenris down. Perhaps, if he saw that Anders was no threat to her or her mother he would relax. "Well then, come over just about any evening and we'll work on it. And if for some reason I'm not there, my mother can help. She's teaching Orana and Sandal already."

Fenris went red all the way to the roots of his hair. "Actually, I'd prefer if you would teach me, alone."

He looked so young when he blushed. She knew it was just him being an elf; they had that odd ageless quality to them. Sometimes she could swear he was old enough to be her father and others, like now, he looked like he was barely a score. And of course, he couldn't remember how old he was but she was pretty sure he was close to her age, looks aside.

"Very well, if for some reason I can't make it I'll let you know." She turned to go but stopped, "Uhm, I can't exactly guarantee the alone part. Not with Anders living there. Is that going to be a problem?"

Fenris' eyes hardened. "He's living there? Already? Don't you think that's rather quick, Hawke?"

She shrugged, ignoring his hard stare. "It's been nearly four years. How long should we have waited?"

He grunted and shook his head. "It's fine."

"Good, see you tomorrow?" She asked lightly.

He nodded and turned to look out the window. Apparently dismissed, she left. She had a few other things to check on before she headed down to the clinic. She wanted to stop over to see Sebastian firstly.

As she climbed the steps to the Chantry she heard a small group of Templars talking in hushed tones in between barks of laughter. And as she passed them she heard one of them whisper "mage whore". Her steps faltered, she didn't know why, it wasn't anything she hadn't been hearing almost constantly for the last four years, but today it felt like it had more weight than usual.

Her mind skittered over the previous day as she started moving again. Even thinking about it was turning her on. She'd liked their little game yesterday, liked Anders having complete control over her. Did that mean there was something wrong with her?

She was annoyed with herself, there was nothing wrong with enjoying a little play. She'd listened to Isabela talk about it enough, and she'd never thought any less of Izzy for her little games. So, why should she think any less of herself for playing games with Anders, a man who actually loved her?

As she moved through the Chantry though she had the paranoid feeling that everyone was talking about her. She hurried down to Sebastian's room. He was seated inside at his desk writing, and just waived her in when she knocked lightly on his open door.

When he finished and set down his quill he stood and pulled her into a quick hug. "Hello, dear sister, how good to see you."

She hugged him back, her stomach unknotting a little.

He'd sensed her uneasiness though, he stepped back, hands grasping her upper arms lightly. "What's the matter? Do you need me to get my armor on?"

She shook her head and sat down on his bed, not sure she wanted to talk about this with Sebastian. "It's nothing."

He pulled the chair close to sit across from her. "Is it nothing, or just not something you want to talk about?"

She bit her bottom lip for a moment, thinking about what to say. She could tell him the truth, mostly. "One of the Templars outside the Chantry called me a 'mage whore' on my way in here today."

Sebastian sat back and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Sekhmet. Who was it? I'll make sure they're reprimanded if that's what you want."

She shook her head.

"I thought not." He crossed his leg to set his ankle on his knee. "So, what changed that it upset you today? I've heard them call you that and worse many times and you never batted an eyelash."

She felt herself blushing. She wasn't about to tell Sebastian about her kinky game with Anders. She was startled by Sebastian's laughter, even gentle as it was.

"Anders a little kinkier than you expected, sis?" He was still smiling.

"I'm not talking about this with you." She muttered, horrified at the prospect of talking about sex with someone she thought of as a brother.

"I was a brother of the Chantry, not a virgin, Sekhmet. I know a thing or two about sex, and kink if you need to talk." He was more earnest sounding now, even if he couldn't quite wipe the grin off his face.

She looked at him for long moments and decided that he was being honest. She had a feeling; from the look on his face Sebastian did know a thing…or fifty about kinky sex. And that just sort of made it worse. "Do you really want to hear about me getting naked, sweaty, and dirty with Anders?"

The smile faded, "Not particularly, but if you need to talk I want to be here for you and I can handle it."

Sebastian, trying to be a good friend even when he knew it would be unpleasant for him. The look on his face right now was eerily reminiscent of the look on Carver's face when she'd had to explain a certain sex act to him. Poor, Sebastian, she decided to put him out of his misery. "No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine. It's just different."

He immediately looked relieved and after a long pause and several deep breaths he added, "Love is the important part of a relationship, Sekhmet. What you do with your bodies isn't important so long as there is love."

Her heart stuttered in her chest. Was she so transparent that he had guessed at the problem without her really saying anything? She gave a faint nod, unable to respond any other way.

His smile returned, although it was smaller this time. "And he does love you." He stretched and leaned back, reclining in the stiff chair as best he could. "I thought I was in love once, but watching Anders with you…now I'm not so sure it was love at all."

A soft sigh escaped him. "I've made a decision about Starkhaven, and it's thanks to the time I spent with you and Anders."

She watch him closely, unsure of what to say and wanting him to continue.

"I'll stay living here, and study the Chant, work towards becoming a brother again. But, I shall travel with you and fight at your side as long as you allow me. And if perchance I meet someone, someone I love the way Anders loves you, then I will let that guide me.

His voice became quieter, less sure. "If she is willing to join the Chantry we will stay there, together in a chaste marriage. And if she needs more worldly things to appease her, I shall take it as a sign and retake Starkhaven." He gave her a wide smile, "And you are going to help me."

She giggled, unable to stop herself at Sebastian's odd romanticism. "What makes you think I'm going to help you?"

Her giggling stopped when Sebastian sobered, "Because I'm lonely, Sekhmet. I didn't even realize how lonely I was until I saw the way Anders kissed you. It felt like it tore a hole in my soul and I felt this great empty chasm inside of me." He shook his head and shifted forward taking a shaky breath. "That's not true; it's been there all my life, this hole I could never fill."

He settled his head into his hands. "I drank and got in trouble, tried to fill the hole with meaningless sex and women." Each word was pained sounding, as if each admission hurt him physically. "And then I came to the Chantry and I tried to fill it with the Maker. I stuffed it with the Chant, and prayer, meditation and piety. I even convinced myself I was happy, and content."

He lifted his head, eyes red rimmed with tears threatening as he looked at her. "But, if I was happy why did I leave so easily? Why was I so quick to follow you into danger? If I was content, revenge wouldn't have been able to rip me so easily from the Maker's arms. If I was happy, following you, fighting with you wouldn't have been so appealing; the call of adventure wouldn't have been so seductive."

He exhaled slowly, working hard to rein in his emotions and to stop the tears from spilling over. His eyes were pleading with her for understanding, for compassion. "Your friendship helps, but I want that sense of peace and acceptance I see on Anders' face. I want a partner who is my equal, as Anders is yours. I want someone who accepts me as completely as you accept him. I want…" He looked at the floor, his voice sounding choked. "I want, I want, I want…You tell me I belong with the Chantry, dear sister, yet here I am coveting another man's life."

Her poor, dear Sebastian , those pretty teal eyes of his hid an ocean of emotion she'd never even guessed at. She slid from the bed, shocked by his words and the deep pain she'd glanced while he'd spoken. She'd had no idea he'd been so lonely, that he hurt so much. What kind of friend had she been to him that she'd missed so much anguish? Carefully, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hoping to offer him some small measure of comfort.

He held her tight, sniffling against her shoulder a couple times while he struggled to get himself under control. When he finally let her go he gave her a self deprecating smile, "I don't think I've ever cried in front of someone before." He let out a deep breath, "I really like having a sister."

A small smile touched her lips and she felt happy and warm inside at his admission. At least she had been able to do this small thing for him. "I'm proud to be your sister, Sebastian."

He touched her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn't realized she had shed. "So, you'll help me?"

She sighed, "Honestly, there's not a single woman I know that I'd let within ten feet of you. I don't trust them."

He chuckled, "I guess that means you'll be acting as my big sister."

She giggled, "If that's what it takes to keep you from getting your heart broken, yes."


She'd stayed and had tea with Sebastian after his shocking confession about being lonely. It was already late afternoon and she still wanted to stop at the Hanged Man before meeting Anders at his clinic. Hopefully, he hadn't expected her too early.

She walked into the Hanged Man and found Varric standing awkwardly in the corner next to a woman who had her head down, sobbing on the table. She crossed to him quickly to see what was going on. Isabela seemed to almost appear at her elbow.

Her voice was quiet, "Hawke, there's nothing you can do for her. None of us can help her."

She sped her steps to see what the woman needed. "Varric, what's going on?"

"Shit," Varric turned to look at her, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check in. Now what in the world is going on?" She asked, a little exasperated at his attitude.

"Her sister's been taken to the Gallows." He said with a tired sigh.

"So, we'll break her back out and get them out of the city." She and Anders had done it a half dozen times before, it shouldn't be a problem.

"Her sister's not a mage. She was caught helping a man who was an escaped mage, an apostate."

She scowled, "Why did the Templars take her if she wasn't a mage? Shouldn't they have handed her over to the city guard?"

"Not anymore, Meredith has decreed helping apostates a hanging offense. And since the city guard refuses to hang civilians for the Templars, they're taken to the Gallows for their execution." His voice which had started strong and angry had petered out as the sounds of the woman's sobs became louder with his narration.

"She has no right, she doesn't have jurisdiction over civilians. And how did she get a magistrate to agree to these cases?" Her anger was stirring inside her, how dare the Templars so grossly overstep their bounds? And why wasn't anyone doing anything about it?

"There is no case. If they're accused of aiding an apostate they're being dragged off and hung. There isn't a magistrate involved even." She could hear the anger in Varric's voice now.

She spun on her heel. She had to see this for herself. She couldn't believe even Meredith would go this far. At a brisk pace she headed for the docks, Varric and Isabela trailing behind her. She climbed on the first ferry to the Gallows and patiently waited to arrive on the stone steps. In the center of the square was an actual gallows set up, mages were giving it a wide berth while the Templars seemed amused and fascinated.

"How long has this been going on Varric?" She asked, trying to control her anger.

"About a week, apparently. There are three executions scheduled today." He responded gruffly.

She nodded and started walking around the courtyard speaking with people. She wanted to learn as much as she could about this dangerous new declaration as she could. Not many wanted to talk, but the few who were brave enough filled her in quickly.

As dusk approached three people were led out. Two were women and one a man. Up the steps to the gallows they were taken. A crowd started to gather, mostly Templars and a few Tranquil. In mere moments there were no mages to be seen at all. Not that she could blame them; she wouldn't want to watch either.

Sekhmet shifted in the crowd to get a better look. She didn't want to forget this. Nooses were hung around their necks, the ropes tightened securely. Burlap sacks were slipped over each of their heads. It didn't help much. She could still hear the three of them sobbing.

The blonde haired woman was quiet, but the other bawled loudly. And the man, although mostly quiet had been dripping snot from his nose as he cried. None of them spoke, miraculously. And for a nasty moment she wondered if perhaps Meredith had cut out their tongues. It would have certainly left them quiet for the show.

"I'm leaving." Isabela started moving away.

Sekhmet grabbed her arm and pulled her back, "No, you watch this and you remember. This is what happens when people like Meredith run unchecked. People die, innocent people."

Izzy glared at her but stayed where she was. Varric's eyes looked haunted as he watched them preparing the three people for their death. She, herself, was sick to her stomach knowing there were far too many people for her to do anything to save them. For a moment she thought about chancing it anyway, but she wouldn't pull Varric and Isabela into a fight that would likely kill them without their permission.

She carefully looked at each Templar, noting their faces. She would remember, and they would pay. For every drop of blood the Templars spilled she would make sure they paid for it tenfold. And just as the Templars were terrorizing the citizens she would terrorize the Templars.

And she'd invite Justice to come play with her. She was sure he'd be more than happy to help. Maybe, he'd even learn to not hate her. A girl could always dream right?

Bile rose in her throat and a swirl of fire and ice took up residence in her stomach as the Templars, except one, moved off the gallows. The one remaining stood beside a lever. So this was to be it, not last words granted even. She watched with her heart racing.

The Templar jerked the lever and all three people fell. There were two loud cracks followed by the bodies twitching. But one of them, the quiet woman, groaned and moaned and writhed. Her neck hadn't broken like the other two.

Watching her choking to death was awful, her body jerked and twisted her feet scrabbling for purchase and finding nothing but air. She pissed herself and the spectators watched as the dark stain spread over her clothes. Sekhmet was incensed that the Templars were just standing there watching, not even bothering to help her or end her suffering.

She started heading through the crowd, determined to end the poor woman's suffering. She was still yards from the gallows when she heard a zing by her right ear. She glanced up and saw the woman's body hanging limply, still swinging from her struggle. And in her heart was a crossbow bolt.

She turned on her heel and headed back towards Izzy and Varric. It only took her a moment to find them. "Ready to leave?" She asked Varric.

Still looking ill he nodded. "Yes, let's leave and never come back."

Izzy took Varric's arm, "I agree, let's get out of here."

No one stopped or hindered them as they left the Gallows. When they reached the docks she parted ways with Izzy and Varric and headed down to Anders' clinic. She needed to see him now more than ever. As soon as she walked in she went straight to him and hugged him tight.

He stroked her hair, "You alright?"

"I just saw a hanging." She stated flatly.

He nodded, "Been to the Gallows, I take it?"

She looked up at him, shocked, "You knew?"

A long sigh, "Yes, but there's too many Templars around. There's nothing we can do. I mean, we could set fire to the gallows, but they'd just rebuild it and probably hang even more people. Your source in the Gallows didn't tell you about it?"

She dug the message out of her pocket. In all honesty, she'd completely forgotten about it. She popped the wax and skimmed over the message. Her contact had indeed told her of the new policy and the gallows that had been built. He'd advised her he saw no way to stop Meredith's new policy yet, but that he would continue to look.

"And?"

She looked up at Anders, "He told me, I just…forgot to read it."

Anders looked around his empty clinic then back to her. "Come on, let me take you home."

Feeling slightly numb she let him lead her home. She didn't feel like eating, but did eventually accept a cup of tea. She sat staring into the fire trying to understand why the Templars would go along with killing innocent people.

Anders was attentive, but quiet and unobtrusive. Leandra had also left her to her own devices, likely worried at her brooding silence. And while she was brooding she was actually glad Fenris didn't stop by for a reading lesson. She had a feeling she'd be terrible at tutoring tonight.

Eventually, she decided she'd had enough sulking and brooding. It was time to actually do something for once. She stood and headed to the foyer to grab her blades before she headed out.


"Where are you going?" Anders was confused at her sudden change.

She smiled and it was a dangerous looking curve, "Hunting…you should join me."

"Hunting?" What exactly was she planning on hunting in Kirkwall at this time of night?

She slid her hood up to cover her white hair. "Come with me or not, Anders, but I've got Templars to kill."

Justice stretched across his mind like a lazy cat, "Hunting Templars? Anders, we need to join her." And who was he to disagree. Honestly, it sounded like fun. "Give me a few minutes to get changed."

"Wear something a little less conspicuous than that coat, will you?" Her eyes suddenly widened, "Oh, I have just the thing." She jogged up the stairs, tugging the hood from her head as she ran and he followed her.

She went to the wardrobe and pulled a box from inside. She settled it on the bed and looked at him with an enormous grin. "I was going to give this to you in a few weeks, after you were more comfortable with…uh, gifts. But, it's perfect for tonight."

He opened it cautiously; there was armor inside, beautiful black armor with a silverite guard on the right shoulder. One of the gloves was fingerless and the other had silverite claw tipped fingers which were heavily inscribed with powerful runes. The boots were also silverite tipped and heavily enchanted. He pulled the armor out and found a long, wide purple sash in the box. He smiled, purple was his darling Sekhmet's favorite color. He'd wear it proudly, a symbol of their love without the world at large knowing. It was perfect.

And then he caught sight of another piece. Sekhmet pulled it out of the box, "I'm not sure how you're going to feel about this piece. It was my father's."

He took it gently from her fingers. It had a hood to cover his hair and a finely worked mask, made of a lightweight material he wasn't familiar with. While wearing it, no one would have any idea who he was. He wondered how often Sekhmet's father had used it. "Are you sure you want to give this too me?"

She nodded, "Papa would want you to have it, would want someone to get use out of it."

"I'm starting to feel a little strange here, Sekhmet. First the staff, now this mask?" And the niggling memory in the back of his mind when Bethany had told him he reminded her of their father. Was Sekhmet trying to force him into a mould of her father?

She gave him a bit of a shy look. "Does that mean I shouldn't tell you this armor is based off a set of my father's armor and the set you were eyeing at the Merchant stall?"

"How in blazes did you get it done so fast?" He didn't even know armor could be made so quickly.

Her smile fizzled a little, "Money can buy all sorts of things, including new armor much more quickly than normal."

"Sekhmet," he was frustrated she kept spending her money on him.

"What? I adore the coat, Anders. I really do. I dream about curling up naked in that thing it looks so comfy, but it is starting to show some obvious signs of wear. I want you to have the best armor; I want you protected as much as possible. Not to mention I bet you look damned fine in tight leather."

He traced his fingers over the armor again, over the incredibly soft, supple and probably extremely expensive leather with a sigh. If she'd had it custom made she couldn't take it back anyways. And, it would be nice to have some new armor. "I'll take it if you promise to stop with the gifts, Sekhmet. I don't need you buying me things."

She shrugged, "And I don't need the money. I can't promise not to buy you things. If there's something you need, or something I think you might like I'm going to get it for you, because I can." She gave him a little smirk, "What's the matter Anders? Afraid I'll demand sexual favors in exchange for the gifts?"

A shiver of excitement ran through him, "Maybe exchanging for sexual favors isn't such a bad idea. I think I'd quite rather like the opportunity to pay you back for the gifts."

Sekhmet fell quiet and her smile faded away, he just barely caught the hooded look in her eyes before she turned away. She paused for a moment at the door. "I'll be waiting for you in the foyer." And with that she slipped from the room, seeming almost ghostly for some reason.

He pushed a few stray hairs off his forehead as he felt a flutter of nervousness in his chest. He'd upset her somehow, clearly it was the comment about sexual favors but he wasn't sure why. She had to know he'd been joking, teasing her, just playing with the idea of another excuse to enjoy her delectable body. Didn't she?

He closed his eyes, "Andraste's ass, I am terrible at this love business." He wanted to make Sekhmet happy, to hear her laugh and to feel her snuggled in his embrace. He needed to get his mouth and his libido under control. Instead of treasuring Sekhmet, he felt like half the time he was hurting her.

Her moods were hard to judge, sometimes she was playful, and sometimes she took everything so seriously. But those smiles of hers and that laughter, it was so worth it when he could win them from her.

He changed into the tunic and trousers he usually wore under his leather armor and coat. Then quickly pulled the new armor from the box and dragged it on, belting it into place. She'd been right; he did look pretty damned good in the tight leather. Well, except for his legs, it seemed to accentuate their long lines, making them appear even more strange than usual. But the rest of it looked quite dashing on him.

And as he wound the sash around his waist he couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his lips. To everyone else it might just be a piece of purple fabric, but to him it was a clear declaration. He belonged to Sekhmet. Tingles raced down his spine. He liked the idea of her making a visible claim on him. It was kind of thrilling.

As for the mask he put it into a pouch on his belt. He wasn't sure whether he would wear it or not yet, but thought it would be good to bring it along at least. As for the rest of the armor, he liked the metal accents on the boots and the one gauntlet. The enchantments would take some getting used to, they were lot stronger than the ones he was familiar with, but they weren't unpleasant.

He picked up his staff from the corner, ready to strap it to his back when he nearly dropped it. It felt like everything inside him suddenly expanded, opened up and drank in the world around him. It took him a moment to realize there was another enchantment that seemed to activate only when he wore everything together, augmenting his mana, giving him a bigger pool to work with, and focusing his mind into crystal clarity.

A smile played about his lips at the incredible rush of power. If the Templars thought he'd been a force to be reckoned with before, wait until they had to stand against him in this. He felt nigh invincible in his new armor, as powerful as a god. "And they shall tremble before me," he intoned. Cliché maybe, but it certainly felt right. No wonder so many conquerors were quoted saying similar things.

He'd tear the Gallows apart brick by brick with ease in this armor. His love certainly knew what she was doing. He felt a deep rush of love and gratitude for her, amazed at how well she knew him, how much she understood his needs. And he would learn to do the same for her, he would know her as well as she seemed to know him. No matter what it took, he would make her happy.

He raced down the stairs, picking Sekhmet up and spinning in a circle with her in his arms laughing, kissing her. "It's incredible, Sekhmet. The most amazing armor I've ever seen, ever felt. Sweet Maker, I feel amazing." He could hear the excitement and jubilation in his voice, he must have sounded ridiculous to her, but he didn't care.

She'd given him this incredible gift. He set her down and kissed her again, "Thank you, my love. Thank you so very, very much."

She giggled, "I guess that means you like it."

He looked down at the leather clinging to him. "Like it? I bloody love it. I feel like I could take on the world in this armor."

"Good," with a quick smile she gripped his hand and pulled him from the house and into the night.

When they were out of the house he pulled back a bit and with a heavy sigh she released his hand. He followed her quick steps closely and before long they were in Lowtown. She paused, head canting to the side before tugging him into an alley where they climbed up to the roof. She moved far more nimbly than he could manage, of course.

Squatting low she stalked along the roof tops until she found what she was looking for. She pointed and Anders caught sight of their prey. His heart kicked up faster, excited to try his new armor out and pleased beyond words at her choice of hunting tonight.

There were three of them, silverite armor glinting dully in the moonlight, standing outside the door of one of the little ramshackle buildings. They appeared to be arguing with a woman standing in the doorway. She was terrified; Anders could practically feel it from where they were perched, poor woman.

Sekhmet pulled her hood up, hiding her face in deep shadow as well as covering her distinctive hair. "Put the mask on now, if you don't want anyone to see you."

He pulled the mask on and was surprised by how well he could see in it, his sight was certainly being enhanced in some way though he wasn't quite sure how. Was even more surprised by how it seemed to mould to his face. It was very comfortable and light, another heavily enchanted item. Seemed Malcolm Hawk, clever man that he'd clearly been, had been very fond of his enchantments.

Sekhmet leaned forward and helped him tuck his hair inside the mask, and nodded when it was all hidden. "Follow my lead," with that she dropped down to the ground and whistled loudly. The three Templars whipped around to find her. "Hello boys, what are we doing out so late? Does Meredith know you're out past curfew?"

Anders dropped from the roof to stand beside her, silent, but watching the Templars closely.

"We're searching for apostates. Now move along and mind your business."

"Apostates? Like him?" She gestured to Anders.

He played along, holding out his hand and letting a little lightning dance between his fingers, the enchantment enhanced magic making his skin tingle pleasantly. Only one of the Templars had his helmet off, but even in the dark Anders could easily see his eyes widen in shock. Anders felt his body and Justice responding to the potential danger. The Templar would attack at any second and the prospect made him nearly giddy.

The woman they had been harassing disappeared inside of her house. The sound of the door lock echoing in the small space they inhabited. Anders was grateful she'd been smart enough to get out of the way.

"Apostate!" The Templar called out as he drew his sword. He was already headed for Anders, several feet ahead of his cohorts by the time they spurred themselves into action.

Sekhmet moved so quickly Anders only caught a blur out of the corner of his eye. But the next thing he knew the Templar's head was lying at his feet.

"So typical, the minute you see a mage you forget anyone else is there. It's such bad manners." She scolded the still twitching corpse.

Anders couldn't help a snicker at her overly irritated tone, even if it was in bad taste, considering the head lying at his feet.

She looked at the other two Templars, both who had frozen in their tracks at their apparent leaders' quick death. "Come along now boys, don't be shy. Oh, and do yourselves a favor, don't treat me like I'm not here. It makes me so moody when people do that. I can't abide rudeness."

One of them turned on their heel ready to run.

"Anders," Sekhmet yelled, but Anders had already taken action, or rather Justice had. A slow and painful crushing prison spell ensnared the man. Anders had let him through when he pushed. He felt it only fair that Justice get to enjoy a bit of hunting.

Sekhmet either didn't notice that Justice was with her, or didn't care. She strolled casually over to the third. "Are you going to face me like a man?"

The templar nodded slowly.

"Good, then take off the helmet." Her words were jagged, bitter. Anders was surprised that Justice was so pleased with Sekhmet's anger.

He pulled it off, "I'm not afraid of you." But his voice betrayed the lie.

"Are there more of you in the city tonight?" she asked casually.

He sneered at her, "Why would I tell a mage's whore anything?"

A flicker of anger shot through Anders. "Would you like me to hurt him?"Justice asked casually.

"No, let her handle it, this time." He didn't like the Templars calling her that, and they would pay in time. And he was more than a little worried that Justice was so caually offering to hurt people for him, or perhaps he was offering to do it for Sekhmet? For now, she seemed to have it well in hand. Anders was having a hard enough time not reacting to the sounds of agony from the Templar Justice had snared.

She smirked and leaned in close to the Templar, "What makes you think he's not my little toy?"

The Templars' eyes flicked to Anders and Justice briefly before moving back to Sekhmet. Clearly, he was thinking the idea over. It amused Anders to no end and though Justice was rather disgusted he kept his mouth shut.

The Templar winced each time a bone was heard snapping or pained howl was torn from his comrade, still trapped in the crushing prison, dying slowly. Justice could hurry the process along if he liked, but while Sekhmet was playing he saw no point. And Anders was of a similar mind, let the bastard suffer. Considering how much the Templar had seemed to enjoy tormenting that poor civilian tonight, he was no stranger to heaping misery on others.

Sekhmet sighed and tried again, amusement gone. "I'll ask you once more. Are there more of you in the city tonight?"

The Templar surprised Anders by spitting at Sekhmet. Barely had it touched her skin then the man was falling to his knees clutching at his neck where a fountain of blood had suddenly erupted. Sekhmet wiped her face with a neckerchief while the man gasped and bled and slowly collapsed at her feet. She kicked him once before turning to leave.

Lightly, she tossed over her shoulder, "Stop playing with your food love, put it out of its misery." As if they had done nothing more than had a meal.

Justice did, collapsing the prison all at once, leaving a misshapen and bleeding pile of flesh on the stones. Justice shifted inside of him, not releasing control, now that they had taken some action against the Templars. The spirit was very pleased with their hunting expedition. As for Anders, he felt good, invigorated, excited, and if he were a honest just a little sickened by Justice's brutal treatment of the Templar he'd captured in the crushing prison. That specific brutality aside though, hunting might just be his new favorite past time, especially, if he was going to be doing it with Sekhmet.

With his obvious pleasure Anders couldn't help but tease Justice a little."Careful Justice, or I might suspect you're starting to like my little lioness."

Instead of the quick denial he'd been expecting Justice's response was more measured. "She is…what is that word you are so fond of? Oh yes, she is a complicated woman."

Anders smiled and rushed after his complicated woman.