A month later, three weeks of which being walking to it, Dane found himself in a slightly larger town. This meant more work, mostly consisting of making medicines, hunting down raiders for bounty, and the occasional mundane task such as mending clothes. All this meant more coin, and he was actually doing well enough to stay in the Inn.

He was coming back from turning in his tasks for the day into the Chanter, with dark quickly falling: a fact that made him nervous due to the fact that it seemed that there were an oddly high number of Templars in this particular town. Templars that had the dangerous mixture of experience and clarity afforded by a lack of the lyrium poisoning that made the oldest of them less dangerous, which meant that he had been eyed by several of them for the presence of his staff. He doubted that a fourth one would buy his 'It's a spear, I stab people with it' line. Which meant he probably had another five days, maybe less. Then he heard the fighting.

Fenris…?

The elf he had treated stood , greatsword in hand, surrounded by a multitude of armed men. As several rushed the warrior, Dane spied an archer taking aim from atop the nearby building, and from what he could tell, the elf was unaware of the archer.

He had been avoiding using his magic to keep from bringing down the Templars on his head, particuraly with how they were already breathing down his neck, but… could he really protect a life once only to allow it to be lost at a later instance?

No, I can't, he realized, and with that, he invoked a Force spell to send the man staggering off the building. He hurtled to the ground, hitting the earth with a muted thud near Fenris. His spell went unnoticed by none and a greasy looking man made several movements and yelled, directing his men toward him as more came from the alley he was just in.

The man taunted, "That was your last mistake, mage!"

Dane spun his staff into an offensive grip and lashed out, the metal blade biting into one man's neck, puncturing through armor on another. He moved to keep the wall at his back, focusing on limiting the amount of assailants that got close to either Fenris or himself with blasts of kinetic energy and spikes of ice. The Captain of the bunch, whom he had lost track of after the previous taunt appeared beside Fenris - who was engaged with two other hunters - his own broadsword held aloft, ready to strike the elf down.

Hawke focused, despite the weariness he could already feel pulling at the back of his mind, and pushed the man back as hard as he could with a telekinetic burst that sent the man flying back, into the wall. He slid down it with a gurgle.

With their captain dead, the remaining hunters quickly lost morale and steam, an advantage that mage and warrior pressed relentlessly, and they were quickly wrenching their weapons from the last of the now cooling bodies.

Hawke, however, was in a bit of a panic. They were standing in an alley of dead people, some with obvious marks that screamed 'I WAS KILLED BY A MAGE', in a town where he already had Templars watching him like a pack of wolves stalking prey.

"Um, can we go? It's obvious you want to talk, but this isn't really the place…" He suggested, surprised when Fenris nodded, but otherwise too distracted to do more than note it.

They walked through the now dark street for several minutes, and he occasionally thought that he heard someone following him, but passed it off as him simply being paranoid. Then Fenris stopped and spoke, his tone as unreadable as his expression when he turned to face the human. "This is twice now that I owe you my life."

Dane was uncertain how to respond, and was freed from that as the elf continued, "For what of my life I remember, those who use magic have always done things for their own sole benefit. And yet you have assisted me twice now, to no benefit of your own. Why?"

Briefly, he considered telling Fenris the reason that-

That some good may as well come of this curse that which for I never asked.

Dane opened his mouth to say that, cut off as his vision blurred and he staggered, abruptly unable to sense the Fade, into the other man, dazed even as panic began to bubble into his mind. Fenris gripped him, a stunned expression now on his face, unseen by the human who was suddenly too weak to support himself. It was, however, seen by the armored man at the entrance of the alley way, a naked blade in his hand as he approached.

XXXXX

Fenris shifted the man leaning against him, vaguely surprised by how light the man seemed, as the Templar spoke. "Step away from the maleficar, elf, and we can avoid any unnecessary violence."

He felt Hawke give an instinctive tremble, unable to do anything to defend himself, and his temper flared, surprising him. He would have to figure out the why later though, as the Templar had stopped a foot in front of them, sword raised.

He would swear for the rest of his life that it was instinct that made him strike, phase through the man's armor and into his chest to crush his heart. The man gurgled, staggered back, and collapsed to the ground. Fenris was left with a bloodied hand and a mage too weak to walk, whose staff was digging into his arm, in a dark back alley with a Templar bleeding out near his feet.

Finally the mage had recovered enough to ask, "Fenris?"

"Yes?"

"What…What in the name of Andraste was that?" the mage's voice carried a strange mixture of shock, bewilderment, curiosity and the slightest hint of being disturbed.

"It's… a long story. Can you walk?" he asked.

"I think…"

"Then we should probably get out of town, considering the dead Templar."

"Good thing I have all of my stuff on me then…" the mage - Hawke - chuckled weakly, removing his weight from the elf's shoulder , and swaying slightly before leading the way from the town, pausing occasionally to catch his breath.

They kept moving until they were well out of sight of the town, before stopping to rest.

Fenris watched the mage pick through his bag, possibly taking inventory, before inquiring, "…Where exactly are you heading?"

"Kirkwall. My family will be there by now, and I need to keep up my end of the bargain that got them there." Hawke replied before asking, "What about you?"

"…I…do not know." He admitted weakly. He had just been intent on avoiding Danarius.

Hawke was quiet for a long moment, and then began, "If you really don't know…" he paused for a brief moment, then finished, "If you really don't know, and if I'm not being too presumptuous, you could come with me to Kirkwall. You could probably avoid your former master there for a while, or you could get a ship to Rivain or somewhere."

He thought about that for a moment and stated, "It is as good a plan as any."

"Wait…Really?" The mage blinked at him as if he'd abruptly sprouted wings.

"You have not given me any reason to not trust you." It took surprising effort to admit it to him, however.

"Then…Can I ask what that was you did earlier again?"

"It is the lyrium markings, which were branded into my skin in an excruciatingly painful ritual by Danarius, my former master. The same ritual caused me to forget my life before it, and now he seeks to regain his investment... even if he must rip it from my corpse."

"I see. That would be a shame."

Did he just…? Fenris thought before producing a weak laugh.

He watch the man color slightly, and heard him mutter, "Maybe that came out

wrong… Or at least more suggestive than I intended," then louder, more directed, "We should probably keep moving then. At least until we're definitely out the area they'd search."

He nodded in agreement, getting to his feet and following the mage.