Author Notes: Thank you so much for adding the stories to the favorites and even the reviews! After reading the reviews, I decided to go with friendmance.
And sorry for the huge delay in this chapter-I've been trying to beat my Dalish elf playthrough on DA:O so I can do another playthrough of DA2 to refresh my memory. DA:O is such a long game though, ahhhh.

Anyway, I'll stop jabbering. Here's the next chapter, and I hope you guys enjoy it.

IV.

I could sense my working day was nearing an end; I was starting to feel weak and feeble, an indicator that I was becoming void of all mana. I left out a soft sigh and announced the clinic was closing for the day. The people seemed sad and disappointed, but what was I to do? I had no money for lyrium potions to replenish my void mana; I spent what little I had on bandages and basic first-aid items. Apologies and promises of tomorrow flowed out my mouth as I loomed in the doorway. I watched them all leave, drifting on uncertain paths towards the hovels they would consider home. I frowned. There's nothing you can do, Anders. Not now, Justice. You're the last thing I want to talk to. I shook my head and slowly turned away from the sight as if readjusting my vision onto something else would brighten my mood.

"Hey, Healer," he said with ease.

I could feel my eyes widen. I threw my hand against my heart and choked a gasp. Sitting on my table was that blighted Hawke. He was hunched over, his elbows propped onto his knees and his head resting in his palms. His eyes seemed to twinkle with—what? Amusement? Did I look that stupid? I slowly dropped my hand to my side, clenching it slightly.

I had gone three bloody days with having to hear or see that fellow. The back of my mind was hoping I would never have to see him again. Or maybe that was just Justice's thoughts. The corners of his mouth slowly pulled into a grin and he slid off the table, approaching me with slight caution, as if I would snap and Justice would come out. I couldn't help but tighten my hands into a fist at the thought.

"I have a name, you know," I said, my response delayed.

"Eh, I know. Anders, yes?" he replied, the amusement not leaving his expression. The way he walked and the tone of his voice—I could tell he was in a good mood. His light footsteps led him right in front of me; being relatively close, he tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes giving away a sense of curiosity in him. He opened his mouth as if to say something but promptly shut it and instead he slipped his hands into mine and tugged me forward. His feet swayed side to side, as if he wanted to dance.

I swiftly jerked away from him. "What are you doing here? And how did you get in? I told everyone to ge—"

"You told me I could visit, but I didn't want to visit while you were busy. And well, you closed for the day so I just sort of… Slipped in while you weren't paying attention I guess." Having no dance partner, he held out his hands to an imaginary figure, continuing his slow swaying. He hummed under his breath. I stood in silence, gawking at the man. He was absolutely bizarre! Taking note that I was rather silent, he slowly added in, "I was wondering if you'd like to head over to the Hanged Man with me." The words came out somewhat melodically, moving at the same pace as the rest of his body.

I grunted out my refusal.

He moved towards me, his hand lightly taking hold of one of my fists and raising it over my head, making ill attempts to spin me around. I stayed planted on my feet. "You are no fun," he said, frowning, though by the tone of his voice, the face could have passed as a pout. He put my hand down and took a step away from me. Hawke ceased his dancing and instead watched me as if the longer he stared, the more likely I'd cave in and go to the bar with him. "Please? Just one time?" he asked softly.

"No."

"I can be pretty stubborn. I'll stay here all night if I have to, you know," he grinned.

"And I'll just use some magic to kick your arse out my clinic if I have to, you know," I replied, mocking his tone and grin.

"Oh, so you do have some humor in you!" He looped one of his arms around mine, tugging.

He was so…. Touchy, in the sense that he had to have his hands over everything. Everything he did, it seemed like he needed to feel it. I groaned softly and jerked my arm, but to no avail. He was prepared for my reaction this time and made the grip on my arm rather solid. "Please let go of me," I mumbled.

"Only if you come with me to the Hanged Man and have a drink or two," he said, his eyes twinkling.

I could feel my irritable mood inch towards anger. "Fine," I answered him, feeling Justice echo the same word in my mind. Anything to get him to leave us alone. Hawke's face brightened up—I didn't know it was possible for him to be anymore happier than he was previously. With his arm still looped around mine, Hawke dragged me out the clinic. The man's steps had a bit of a bounce in them in contrast to how I was dragging mine. I'm sure we're quite a sight to behold, I thought grimly. I felt Justice chime in his agreement.

In the time I had been in Kirkwall, I don't recall ever coming to the Hanged Man. It had a homely feel to it; I couldn't help but notice the familiar smell of wet dog, reminiscent of Ferelden. The patrons of the bar sat around low tables, talking merrily. The atmosphere was too similar of times when I was younger and more carefree. Before I had welcomed Justice into my body. But things have changed—with Justice in my body, with my whole life different—I felt awkward. Out of place. Of course Hawke didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable I was getting. He simply directed me upstairs, playfully shoving me into a private room. I was getting ready to panic, but I was automatically put at ease when I saw someone else was in the room.

The dwarf—Varric, if I remember Hawke saying his name to be—was seated at a table, his legs propped up. He looked at me with slight interest before directing his attention back towards Hawke. "So, you brought Blondie?"

I couldn't help but glower. "Blondie? Is that some sort of nickname? I'm sick of nicknames," I muttered half-heartedly. The two ignored me and exchanged curiously glances.

Hawke grinned and laughed softly. "In case you don't remember, this here is Varric." He paused, scratching his beard somewhat awkwardly. "I'll go get some drinks—I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, disappearing within seconds, leaving me with the dwarf whom I really didn't know. I awkwardly sat down in one of the open seats, not knowing what else to do. The dwarf shifted his gaze over to me again, eyes flickering up and down as if he was sizing me up or something. My throat felt tight.

"You were a Grey Warden?" he asked. He removed his feet from the table and propped his elbows on it. Fingers interlocked, he leaned towards his hands, giving the impression that he was very interested.

"Eh," I replied curtly.

"Oh, don't be shy about it, Blondie. I know you were. I was just curious," he paused, deliberating over his words, "to see if you would tell me any of your adventures."

I lifted an eyebrow, "Why do you want me to tell you about..?"

I was cut off. "It makes for a great story. And I'll tell you, people here love a great story."

I opened my mouth, as if to say something, but no words came out. I didn't know what to tell him. Luckily, Hawke had returned, barely managing to hold onto three large goblets. He placed one in the according spots near us and took his spot at the table. "I hope you guys didn't start without me," he said cheerfully.

"Start what?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, I don't know. I thought we could talk. Share stories. Play some cards. Drink. Be merry. Those were my plans for the evening," the man said.

"I agreed only to stay for a drink or two. Not to talk or be merry or whatever the hell you planned," I grumbled. The two ignored me and instead went on to chatting.

Staring into my drink, I couldn't help but realize how stupid it was of me to come here. And how Hawke was even more stupid for inviting—no, forcing—me to come here. I mean, just look at me. I was a mage who had taken in a spirit. A healer who strived to help out the reckless poor whose only plans seemed to be to get hurt again. I was the one who was supposed to make things better for mages, but was still sitting on his arse waiting for a miracle to come. I lingered bitterly on the thoughts for who knows how long, but I could only imagine it had been awhile. While my first drink still lingered in my hands, Hawke and Varric seemed to have constructed a pyramid out of their empty cups. I became attentive to the conversation, however, when I heard Hawke utter my name several times.

"Anders, Ander, you still there?"

I blinked my eyes and looked up to see Hawke and Varric staring at me.

"Huh?

"What do you think of the idea?" Hawke said inquisitively.

"What? I mean… Yeah—sure," I muttered. Perhaps if I agreed with him once, he would leave me alone.

His face shot up with excitement. "Really? That's great!"

"I didn't think he'd actually agree," Varric mumbled, uttering a low whistle.

"Good to have you on the team," Hawke hurriedly said.

I'm sure my expression was priceless. What did I just agree to? I gaped at Hawke and the dwarf.

"Well, that settles that then. So if we need you, we'll swing by the clinic," Varric added in. "Now you two get out. I enjoy company and all, but I really must get my beauty sleep." He grinned.

I couldn't say I wasn't happy to be leaving, but I definitely wasn't happy that Hawke was leaving at the same time. We both exchanged our farewells with the dwarf and left his suite. When we reached the outside, Hawke smiled meekly at me, softly saying, "Thanks so much Anders. I thought you'd be more resistant to the idea, but…Really, thank you. It's great to know that you're willing to come along and… Just thanks."

I felt my face drain of color. "So that's what I agreed to? Being part of your team? Your… Ermm, adventures?"

"Well… Yeah," Hawke answered. He started to look distraught.

I sucked in breath. I turned my head away from him to stare at the moon. It was curved into a perfect crescent. "I see," I sighed out.

"You don't actually want to—?" Hawke started to say.

"No," I snapped.

"Oh, I see."

I remained silent, slowly shifting my head so that Hawke was in my peripheral vision. He had looked to the side, away from me. I could see he was scratching the back of his head. Obviously disappointed in me, he let out a sigh.

"Well, if you change your mind, you can always swing by the Hanged Man," he told me.

"I won't," I quickly replied.

He walked with me for the rest of the trip to my clinic. The two of us had remained silent for most of the time; at one point, I asked him if it was necessary to escort me to my own home, to which he replied that his home was nearby—sort of—and that he wanted to make sure I didn't get hurt or jumped or mugged. At that, I rolled my eyes but decided to bite my tongue instead of say anything. No need to make useless conversation.

We reached the clinic and he mumbled good night to me before sulking away. I couldn't help but keep my gaze on him as he slowly drifted out of my sight. A bit of pity settled in me. I was being an arse to him and he still tried his best to get me to join his escapades.

I couldn't help but wonder if refusing to be part of his team was the right decision? He had helped me with Karl with few questions—it was for those maps, Justice promptly reminded me—but even at that, he didn't sell me out to the Templars. Perhaps he was just trying to help people like I was. I chewed my lip and vocalized my previous question in my head, attempting to gather some reassurance. The reply from the spirit was slightly delayed but it came out as a yes, you are doing the right thing Anders. Keep away from that Hawke. I couldn't help but loiter on how Justice seemed to hesitate. Maybe I could reconsider.

Maybe staying up past your bedtime has gotten to you. Go to sleep.

I started to protest but found myself following Justice's request.