Okay, this chapter gave me some trouble. I rewrote it like 3 times in a bunch of different ways before finishing this one. But I hope you all like it!

P.S. The actual romance stuff might be a little slow at first, but will pick up. I dunno about anyone else, but I always felt like Hawke's pick up lines in the game were a little aggressive and too soon, especially since they're said RIGHT AFTER Anders killed his lover. Like, Hawke, slow your roll.

Anders

Anders did not think that Astrid Hawke was actually going to take him up on his offer to aid her before her Deep Roads expedition; however a week later he looked up from where he was examining an elven girl's broken leg, only to find the young archer waiting by the entrance of his clinic. Her short light hair fell in messy waves around her face, and while a small smile sat on her lips, her eyelids were fluttering with exhaustion.

"Are you hurt?" he asked with concern.

"Me? Oh, no. Just a bit hungover, if that counts," she laughed.

The mage shook his head with a smile. "Would you mind waiting a bit?"

"No problem. I'm just gonna go ahead and lean right here," she replied, letting her back fall to the wall behind her and closing her eyes.

The elf on his examination table gave him a curious look but Anders simply shrugged. "Let's just fix this, shall we? Sit still please." Healing magic bloomed from his fingertip as he concentrated on her impossibly thin pale leg. The bone was small, but seemed as if it had gone untreated for a long time. He was surprised it wasn't worse.

"When did this happen?" the mage asked when the wound was healed and he was wiping sweat off his brow.

"F-four days ago, messere. I f-fell down the steps at the alienage," she answered, her eerily huge blue eyes staring at him.

Huh. Why wouldn't she have sought treatment earlier? Anders suspected instead that it had to do with the gruff looking man who had dropped her off at his doorstep that morning. The look he'd given the poor thing was remarkably harsh and completely unwarranted. The mage's mouth contorted into a thin straight line at the thought.

"Listen," he said quietly. "Be careful, okay? Take this and buy some food. It's not much but it might get you enough for a few days travel." Anders stuffed the few coppers he owned into her thin, shaky hands. "Go to the Dalish. You don't have to live in fear."

Now the girl's eyes were enormously wide. "Th-thank you! I don't know how to repay you."

"There's no need. Be safe," Anders advised.

With that she was gone, scurrying out of the clinic with barely a limp, nearly running into Astrid along the way. The blonde woman sauntered over, studying him intently. "That was kind of you. Do you think she'll make it?"

The mage shook his head sadly. "I don't think she'll even leave, but at least her belly will be full for a while."

Astrid pushed herself onto his table as if it were familiar to her, long legs hanging off of it. "This city," she murmured forlornly.

Anders remained standing. He idly rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "I'm surprised you're back here. Things got a bit…weighty when we spoke last. Sorry."

Astrid waved it away with a motion of her hand. "You did mean it when you said I could come to you here if I needed help, right?" Her deep green eyes did not match the size of the elf girl's but their intensity spoke wonders.

You don't have time to be running errands with this woman. You need to focus!

Anders meant to turn her down, he really did. He opened his mouth intending to take back what he said about being there if she had any need of him, to tell her that he just didn't have time. Yet he found himself caught up in her stare, his lips curving into a slight smile at the piece of blonde hair hanging in her face and the curve of her lips, which were opened ever so slightly. "I'd be glad to help you," he said instead, the words spilling from his mouth and hitting the dirt floor.

"I'm glad to have you," Astrid replied, touching his arm softly with a smile.

His eyes widened at the gesture, but as quickly as her fingers touched his jacket they were gone and she was looking at her lap. Anders cleared his throat. "So, how was your night?"

She groaned and rubbed at her bloodshot eyes. "Bethany and I went to the Hanged Man with our friend from Fereldan, Aveline, to celebrate that she'd been made Captain of the Guard."

"How do you know the Guard Captain?" he asked in surprise. He didn't think the roguish woman was so well connected, but apparently she had more than poor apostates and quick witted dwarves at her disposal.

"It's a long story. We crossed paths while fleeing the Blight and…well, we lost a lot together," Astrid explained. The mage noted the way she looked down as she said it and tucked it into his memory to analyze later. "But she discovered the former Captain was corrupt- the prick! - and she got a well deserved promotion. So we went to celebrate and ran into a simply marvelous woman named Isabela! She took out a group of men all on her own, and without even wearing trousers!"

Anders' eyebrows shot up and the girl laughed. "It was quite a sight. But she had to meet a man for a duel at the Chantry, and so we helped her kill him, along with his inept flunkies."

"That sounds familiar," Anders pointed out. "Do you have midnight bloodbaths at the Chantry often, or is this month just special?"

"I'll be content to wait a while before the next one. It was awful, just like last week. I think some believe I relish killing, especially with the stories Varric has been telling, but I truly don't. Really." Astrid's small pink mouth slipped into a frown. "How are you, by the way? I almost stopped by the other day to ask you to help me against some thugs down at the docks, but I wanted to give you some time to yourself…"

Anders' entire week had been filled with sad poor people coughing and limping in and out of his clinic and dozing in the cots lined against the back wall. He barely had time to sleep, or even eat, and when he did find time he found himself propelled to his desk, writing down declarations of freedom for mages in a sort of formal document, a manifesto perhaps. While Karl's death still haunted his dreams, he did not want to dwell on the loss, and instead focused on changing things so that no other mage would go through what he did. He appreciated her concern however. "I've been alright, thank you. But tell me, how in Andraste's name did you manage to get drunk during all of this?"

"Oh right. Well, we returned to the tavern with Isabela after the battle, and…it turns out she knows a lot of drinking games, among other things. I think she's already proving to be a bad influence on Bethany," she laughed. "But you'll meet her later, if you want to help me with something involving some slavers?"

With an effort, Anders silenced all disagreeable thoughts and suggestions that he needed to work on his manifesto. "I look forward to it."

Hawke

Get used to Lowtown, sister. That's where we're going to stay.

Gamlen's words kept echoing in Astrid's mind as their small group trudged through the muddy streets of Darktown. How could he say that to her mother, the man's own sibling? Sure, she and Carver had fought when the other pulled an unfair move when they dueled or over decisions involving their family-Carver thought he should decide everything because he was the only man in the house after Malcolm died but Astrid thought she should because she was the oldest, and poor Bethany was left in the corner biting her lip- but her brother would have never treated her like Gamlen did Leandra.

"Astrid? We're here."

The older of the two Hawkes shook her head. "Sorry, what?"

Bethany repeated herself. "We're at the entrance to the estate, sister."

"I can't believe how close it is to my clinic," Anders noted. He had looked surprised when Astrid explained that her mother was once a noble in Kirkwall and that slavers now inhabited her ancestral home, but seemed happy enough to help. Or at least she imagined he was. Astrid couldn't read him very well and the man was not prone to smiling.

Beside them, Isabela raised an eyebrow at the decrepit old wooden door in the darkened sewer. "Yes…I hate to break it to you, sweet things, but this does not look like prime real estate, no offense Anders."

"Mother said this is just the cellar entrance. The inside should be much better looking," Bethany replied with a weak smile.

"And filled with slavers!" Astrid exclaimed, prompting a small chuckle from her companions. She turned to Bethany. "Now let's take back what may be ours, or possibly Gamlen's...but probably ours."

Bethany shook her head with a grin. "If it is Gamlen's than the Maker has a twisted sense of humor. Lead the way, Astrid."

The young woman tentatively pushed open the cellar door and peered around, seeing only blackness. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark when she heard a blade slip from a sheath in the far right corner of the room. Without hesitation she readied an arrow and sent in flying in that direction, resulting in a sickening watery thunk and a sound like a heavy sack being dropped on the ground. "Get ready!" she hissed.

More slavers followed and thankfully after a few quick minutes Astrid could see perfectly in the dim light, enabling her to watch her newest and most voluptuous companion back flip off of one of the slavers and propel herself backwards into another, knives out behind her. She truly was superb. And an excellent drinker, as well. Hours after waking up with a splitting headache and a dry mouth and Astrid still felt mildly like she'd been beaten with a club.

Perhaps that was why it was so easy for a man to appear out of the shadows and tackle her to the ground, sending her bow flying several feet away. He was armed with a knife but with a loud grunt, Astrid hit it out of his hands. They scrambled weaponless for an unknown amount of time. It could have easily been thirty seconds or five minutes, Astrid wasn't sure. She knew only of the sweat pouring down her face and the hard ground on her back as she grappled with him, hitting and trying to kick as he managed to straddle her narrow hips. The girl let out a yelp as he fisted a large chunk of her hair in his gauntlet covered hand. With his other, he pulled out a spare dagger from the strap at his back, ignoring her slaps and the profanities spilling from her lips.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Her mind blazed with a multitude of thoughts of survival, none of them comprehensible beyond the word FIGHT. Just as he was lowering the blade, Astrid let out a cry, shoving her thumbs into the slavers' furious eyes. The yell that fell from his lips matched her own and the weapon soon fell from his fingers as her thumbs pressed deeper into the squishy wetness of his sockets. Though she was now at an advantage, his hands struggled at her face, trying to grab or hit whatever he could. With each passing moment her body was growing more and more tired at the battle to get him off of her, she couldn't throw him off. However, finally with a crack of cobalt light, the man slumped onto her with blank eyes and dead weight.

"Gah!" Astrid pushed the heavy lifeless body of her attacker aside.

"Are you alright?" Anders was crouched next to her, concern written on his pale face. The man's staff was still glowing with the magic that had ended her combatant.

"I-I'm fine," she panted. "I just picked a bad day to leave my knife at home." The girl let out a weak laugh and held out her hand. "Help me up?"

Anders' cool hand slid over hers, and a shiver ran down her spine. His fingers were calloused but gentle as he hoisted her up. His hands fell away and amber eyes looked her up and down, searching for any cuts or bruises. "You don't have any injuries?"

She bit her lip under his scrutiny, feeling oddly shy. "No, nothing major," she replied, though her legs were aching beneath her. "Thanks. I'm glad you made it."

The worrying look was still apparent in his eyes but the ghost of a smile haunted his lips. "Me too."

Astrid tried to shake off the weird feeling in her stomach at the mage's touch as she turned towards where her bow was lying on the dirty ground. Was she getting a crush on him? Is that what that was? No, that's stupid, her brain insisted. She barely knew the man!

The girl scooped up her weapon and brushed it off with her hands, considering everything. Her whole life had been spent protecting her sister because of her magic, and looking up to her father because of his abilities. She'd never met a man who believed in freedom for mages the way Anders did, and the fact that he had kind eyes and dedicated his time to healing people was getting to her head. You need to focus on the expedition. Coin isn't going to just fall into your pocket while you ogle at him all day, she pointed out. With a determined glint in her eye she joined her companions and set off for the vault of her ancestral home.

"Everything we want to know about our family is inside," Bethany murmured as they stood in front of the heavy door before them. Astrid's heartbeat quickened in her chest at the prospect of what lay just beyond.

"Well, what are you waiting for, sweetness? Open it up," Isabela suggested impatiently. "Don't you want to know if you'll be leaving me in Lowtown all by my lonesome after your big expedition?" The pirate mock pouted.

Astrid grinned as she heaved open the door. "Somehow I doubt you'll be very lonely."

The room was rather plain but large with its tiled floor and thick stone walls. It made her wonder what the rest of the mansion was like. Inside were a few wardrobes, along with a several crates and a wooden chest in the corner. Here we go, Astrid thought, bracing herself. She carefully looked through everything else, stuffing a few books about Kirkwall and the Circle into her pack. Next she found a few jewels in the bottom drawer of one of the wardrobes.

"Beth, look!" Astrid exclaimed, handing the diamond and rubies to her younger sibling.

"They're beautiful!" the dark haired mage remarked in awe. "They'll be sure to help us with the expedition."

Astrid noticed the minor reluctance in Bethany's voice, and shook her head. "No, these belong to our family and they're yours now. We'll earn the money for the Deep Roads. Now let's go for the chest."

"That's what I like to hear," Isabela said with a rich laugh. Even Anders snorted at that.

Among a few random pieces of frayed rope, a good amount of coin, and an Amell heirloom sigil, was the girls' Grandfather Amell's will and testament. "Maker," Astrid breathed as her eyes scanned the page. "It's ours. Gamlen lied."

Bethany was cradling the will to her chest like an infant as their strange group walked back to Lowtown, talking with Isabela about the sort of parties they could throw their once they bought back the estate. Meanwhile, Astrid was fuming at the thought of seeing Gamlen later.

"Are you okay?" Anders asked as she kicked a pebble just a little too hard, sending it flying up ahead.

"I'm wonderful! Just thinking of ways to murder my uncle," she answered crossly.

"Know what will help you feel better?" Isabela purred.

"This should be good," Anders muttered.

"A drink at the Hanged Man."

Bethany and Astrid looked at each other questioningly. "It couldn't hurt," Bethany said. "It might even be better to wait until Gamlen leaves later to tell her."

"Why?" Astrid asked with a dark look on her face. "What do you think he would do?"

"No, I'm not concerned for mother's sake! I'm concerned for Gamlen," the younger Hawke replied.

Astrid snorted. "He deserves the tirade Mother's going to give him. But," she decided, "it might be a good idea for me to drink a bit first so he has a chance of escape should I decide to beat him."

"I honestly can't tell if you're joking," Anders said, raising an eyebrow.

"Neither can I," she huffed out. "Let's go to the Hanged Man."

"Ooh, this will be fun!" Isabela exclaimed, quickening her pace to keep up with the lanky woman's determined strides.