ElyssaCousland: Thank you, I worry that my humour isn't actually funny. It's reassuring to know that it is! I hope you like this one, it's not going to be very funny.

Mordantmonkey69: I'm glad I've peaked your interest. I hope that my writing is good enough to keep you enticed ;)

Draupadi: Thank you, I know it's a strange concept of a story.

Abionastar50: I will continue as long as you keep letting me know that you like it.

Guest: More you shall have! A bath scene you say? A bath scene you shall have. But not in this chapter I'm afraid. I'll keep a note of it.

I'm sorry about the late update, I'm moving home and I have no internet connection. I'm stealing interwebs at this moment.

Chapter 3

'Would you hurry already,' he says simply. It was supposed to be a question, yet he had a way of turning a phrase that made it sound otherwise. He turns to face her, a sour look on his face. Amelie swears in her mind, loudly and continuously. She was limping badly and hanging from a railing, halfway through High Town market.

'Oh, I'm sorry for the great inconvenience.,' she says giving him a mock bow. 'It's not like I've just switched dimension and fucked my ankle in doing so!' She replies tartly. 'I'll just hurry up and ignore the pain!' She hisses as she looks up at him through her hair. She wasn't going to travel down to Anders clinic, just to traipse back up into High Town. She didn't have the energy and she couldn't bare the questions either, especially with Anders. Fenris scowls from her, standing a few feet away, he sighs and rubs his eyes. Infuriating mages, he thought to himself. What made it worse was that he found himself slightly attracted to her. And she was claiming to be Hawke. That made it more awkward. He wasn't in any way attracted to Garrett Hawke, but, Amelie... With her auburn hair and amber eyes, the light dusting of freckles over her cheeks. Her perfect porcelain skin, it just made him grind his teeth. It was so wrong. This attraction.

'If we linger, we risk unwanted attention,' he states. Ignoring the attraction he felt towards her. It was more than likely just some mage mental manipulation. He inhales deeply to control his temper.

'You think I don't know that?' Amelie retorts. 'I spent years in my city removing the scum from the streets.' She says in a annoyed tone, brushing her hair behind her ear.

'So you say,' he mutters. Amelie heard and shot him a dirty look, she opened her mouth to reply but she was cut off. A couple of thugs dropping down from the balcony above them. Amelie thumps her hand down on the metal as she sees them.

'Give me a fucking break! I am so not in the mood for this shit!' She swears angrily. The thugs look at each other and then back at Amelie and Fenris, clearly thinking that they were easy marks. Their number turned from two to six as more appeared. They became more confident and surrounded them both in a crude semi-circle. Fenris scowls and bares his teeth, his markings glowing lightly. He gives Amelie a look. 'I know, I know. Unwanted attention,' she snaps. 'I get the ironic twist!'

'So, what do we have 'ere?' A man chuckles in cruel humour. Amelie, scowls and raises her hand, palm facing outwards. There's a ripple in the air and his face contorts in pain. She closes her fingers and there's a sickening crushing noise as her telekinetic cage closes around him, his bones shatter and pierce through skin. His howl of agony echoes through the empty square, sending chills down the spines of those closest. Blood erupts from his split veins and arteries, covering those around him. Her hair swirls around her, lightly moving as if she's under water, as her mana pours from her. Fenris is surprised by her sudden attack. She was merciless, it seemed. The others of the gang take a step back from her. She flicks her wrist and sent the bloody hunk into the nearest wall, muscle and ligaments sticking to the brickwork. The splintered bones breaking away from the pulp onto the cobbles. The thug wasn't recognisable. It looked like an Ogre had thrown the thug around into a bloody mass.

'I am not in the mood for this,' she repeats, her eyes seems to glimmer in low light, the amber almost turning into deep black caramel. She turned her hand back to another one of the thugs and they step back in fear. 'Anyone else?' She says simply. Within moments they were left alone, only the sound of running echoing through the market as they ran for their lives. Amelie continues to mutter under her breath as she wipes her sleeve over her face, smearing the blood.

'W-'

'I know! ''Damned mages''!' Amelie snaps. 'It was the easiest way to get them to fuck off. You can complain about my use magic later!' She says simply still trying to remove the blood from her face. 'They weren't exactly going to leave because a woman asked them to, also you're an elf so it's not like they would listen to you either.' Fenris raises a brow, she was right. Also she didn't say it in a derogatory way, simply stating the obvious. She sticks out her tongue in disgust as she tries to clean her face. He has to force himself to stop the smile that was threatening to touch his lips. Somehow he found her a little amusing.

'I was simply going to say that was, efficient,' he says searching for the right word.

'What's that? A compliment almost?' She says with slight surprise. He rolls his eyes and nods. He deserved that.

'Enough, woman,' he said simply as he moved closer to her. He didn't like the idea of physical contact but he didn't want to risk another confrontation. She looked at him warily as he comes into her personal boundaries. 'You are in pain, yes? Your ankle?' He says softly. Amelie leans back onto the railings and nods slightly. This was weird, it was like he had a switch inside his head and it had flipped. He was being, nice almost. He doesn't give her any chance to move of refuse his help as he picks her up, bridal style. She squeaks in shock and grabs his shoulders before realising what she had done and letting him go, bringing her arms closer to herself.

'W-What are you doing?' She stutters looking at him. He forces himself to look straight ahead and keep walking. His skin felt uncomfortable with the cloth of her robe rubbing against it, but he ignores the discomfort.

'I am carrying you,' he states simply. 'It is faster and there will be less chance of any more exploding thugs,' he adds, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. 'I become covered in blood enough when I am with Hawke. I mean, the other Hawke,' he says softly. 'I do not need to start the habit around you, either.' Amelie can't help but smile, properly.

'Sorry about that,' she mumbles looking at her hands. He's actually being normal around her. He does something that she doesn't expect and shrugs a shoulder. Which makes her giggle. She hasn't ever seen him shrug before. She claps a hand over her mouth to hide it. He looks down at her briefly and the smile that had been playing around his lips actually forms and he can't hide his amusement. He looks away before she sees his expression and continues to walk through High Town with no more incidents. Amelie pulls at her sleeves, the cold Kirkwall air biting through her thin robes easily. The alcohol from earlier had worn off, and she could feel the toll on her body and mind as to what had happened that night. Her head began to loll against his chest as she fought sleep. She somehow managed to avoid catching the side of her face on the little edge of his armour, as she leant against his shoulder. He sneaked a look at her as her eyes fluttered shut, she was falling asleep, he deduced.

He managed to put her into the only bed that wasn't destroyed or broken. It was in his room, but he usually fell asleep in armchair next to the fire. At first he simply placed her on the bed and left her there, going to his chair and using a damp cloth to remove the blood from his face and chest plate. He busied himself with polishing his sword and armour, before he looked over at her sleeping form. She had turned onto her side as she slept, her robe rolling up to her knees, her black slipper shoes, half kicked off. He could see goosebumps up her calf, not that he was looking at her legs intentionally. The style of robe left her shoulders and collarbone bare, and he could see that there were also goosebumps raising on her skin. He rubbed his eyes. He was a glorified baby sitter. It angered him in many ways. Some of the ways, he didn't understand why he was angry. The obvious point was, she was a mage. The other reasons, he just couldn't place his finger on. It was infuriating. He fought an inner battle for a moment before he got up and walked over to her. He picked up the blanket that he kept on the back of the armchair and went to drape it over her. Then he shook his head and dropped it by her feet, turning away from her and sitting back down. What was he doing? She was a mage. A mage claiming to be Hawke, at that. She was a liar and mages weren't to be trusted... He sat in his chair grumpily for the next few minutes, occasionally looking over at her. She was cold, clearly. That much was obvious. But he thought that if she was cold she would move or wake up at least. He frowned, putting his fingers together as he looked at her. 'Venhedis,' he muttered under his breath as he stood up and picked up the blanket again. He toyed with it in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply. He was finding this simple action harder than it should be. Far harder then it should be. Forcing all mental processes aside and trying not to think about what he was doing, he draped the blanket over her.

She stirred a little, causing her hair to fall over her eyes. She reached up to brush her hair away from her eyes, a curl stubbornly staying at the corner of her lip. He half swore lightly under his breath, looking away for a moment before reaching up and gently brushing her hair from her mouth. His fingers accidentally caressing her bottom lip slightly. Her eyes flutter as she moves slightly, 'Fenris,' she breathes, opening her mouth a little. He felt his heart rate spike. Did she really just say his name? Did that mean she was, dreaming about him? He jerked back and ran his hand through his own hair. This wasn't right. This was wrong. Completely wrong. He shook his head, his hands resting at the base of his neck as he turns away from her, exhaling deeply. Don't think about it, he thought to himself. It was a mage trick. To deceive him into thinking that she was thinking about him. There was no way she was really from an alternate world. Where he resided also, a different version of him. It didn't make sense. It wasn't possible.

He looked over at her, 'damn, blasted mages,' he mutters under his breath. 'Trouble, every last one of them,' he says bitterly. He shakes his head again and moves over to his chair and sits down, picking up the half bottle of wine from the night before. He took a heavy swig and sighed heavily. Well, he wouldn't let himself do anything like that again. His head was confused enough. Her presence was a constant irritation. The sooner she was sent back to wherever she was from the better.

Well. There we are. The next chapter will be about Catherine and Hawke, I think. Depends on how my fingers go. I have no control over them. Might be a little smut if they get cheeky. Who knows? Well, please review if you would like me to continue and let me know what you think about this chapter.

Poll now up on my page, please look.