ADD NOTE: Since it has neither been proven or disproven that when a Mage is near his or her phylactery their magic weakens, imagine that in this story the mage does not weaken. Most of the characters will still have the same appearance and entrance into my story as they had in the game – some of their backstory (or role in DA2) may stay the same and change very little or just change all together. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I loved writing it ^-^ (Anders has his look from Dragon Age: Origins NOT Dragon Age: 2...He looks kinda...NOT HIM in 2.)

Hawke took some time getting back to her dark corner under the stairs. Making sure not to go her usual way. Knowing Darktown, the bodies from last night were still there, looted and forgotten. Hawke sighed and rubbed her neck as she walked down another flight of stairs. She had to admit, Anders knew what he was doing. His healing was amazing. Hawke frowned as her corner came into view. All her things were ransacked – scattered across the floor behind the stairs. What little money she had was gone, clothes, objects, daggers. Hawke frowned and kneeled down, pushing away some blankets. A broken dagger laid under the blanket, picking it up she starting carving through the clay around a brick. She shimmied the brick out after getting the clay to loosen it. She cringed as she cut her finger, pulling the jagged brick out of the wall. She looked around, making sure no one was around before she pulled out her phylactery. Her fingers traced the golden circle that made her phylactery stay in place. She was able to make the phylactery stop glowing whenever she was near it. Now all she had to do was destroy it all together. Something was always holding her back whenever she was ready to destroy it, something in her mind told her – not yet, just wait. Hawke pushed all thoughts of destroying the phylactery away as she untied the chain on the back of the phylactery. She pulled the necklace over her head and forced it down her shirt to hide. She looked around the floor for any more of her things, coming up empty handed. Hawke stood up and rubbed her temple. She had to figure something out. She'll have to back to Lowtown to see if there were any odd jobs no one else would do. Hawke shook her head, realizing most of those jobs you would need a weapon for. Her weapon fell while she was fighting those men. Hawke unconsciously looked up at the stairs above her. She shook her head, knowing very well if someone saw a fairly made weapon lying around in Darktown, they would take it. Whether or not is was lodged into a man's body. Hawke headed towards Lowtown, passing by Anders clinic as she went to the Lowtown exit. She was able to sneak a peak into the clinic, seeing Anders help a man. From the way his shoulder looked she could guess it was dislocated. She saw Anders warn the man that this was going to hurt.

"I'm going to count to three. On three I will force it back into place," Anders told the man, a reassuring smile on his face, "Would you mind counting for me?"

The man nodded and started counting. "One...Tw-Oh Maker!"

Anders apologized, "It's actually less painful when you don't expect it." The man smiled at Anders and stood up, moving his shoulder around.

"I would suggest not doing much with the arm today. I can heal it enough to where the swelling will go down. You should be able do use it more tomorrow, though I would suggest no heavy lifting for three days."

"Thank you, Anders," The man patted Anders on the back.

"You're welcome, Gamlen." Gamlen headed towards the door, Hawke quickly dodged out of sight as Anders looked toward her direction. She ran down the stairs and headed for the Lowtown exit before Anders could find out who was watching.

"What do you mean you aren't hiring?" Hawke yelled at the smuggler.

"Keep your voice down," The man hissed, "The City Guard as been watching our movements. If you need coin, look elsewhere." Hawke cursed at the man as he walked away.

"Where am I going to find work?" Hawke started walking towards the Foundry district, thinking in her mind where she could find other work. The mercenaries refused to ever take her in after finding out she was a woman, though she never wanted to work with them anyhow. They have two 'retired' Templar's in their ranks. The smugglers are being scrutinized by the city guard. She couldn't work for the bone-pit, women aren't as 'strong' as men. The only thing Hawke could come up with is looking for work on the Chanters Board in Hightown. Hawke bit her lip and stopped walking as she stood outside of The Hanged Man. She could see prostitutes leaning against the wall across the way. Whispering things to both men and women as they walked by. Hawke wondered if she would even be a good prostitute. She rolled her head and headed down to the markets. She could never be a prostitute – only because she was more inexperienced than an innocent child. She's never seen kissing, affection, love. The barely remembers her own father holding her mom. Or Carver talking about his new crush. Hawke shook her head, walking up the stairs to Hightown.

She will never be a prostitute...unless it was a life or death situation. She's positive even than she might just let death take her. Hawke's first instinct to forget going anywhere near the Chantry was when two Templars stood, in uniform, at the end of the Hightown Market. She hated their helmets – you could never see where they are looking, who they are analyzing. Hake decided to be quick about this. She sweat bullets as she passed the Templars, quickly skipping up the steps with a few other people. She headed towards the Viscounts Keep, seeing City Guards and Templars standing away from each other and watching. She felt like they were all looking at her. Her paranoia was getting worse as the went further into Hightown. She looked at the Chanters board and inwardly cursed.

"Nothing?" Hawke spoke aloud in disbelief. She looked down, defeated, turning her back to the board. How could there be nothing?

Hawke took a step forwards, her foot stepping on a flyer. She looked down when she heard a crunch and picked up the paper.

"Test your luck against 'The Queen of the Eastern Seas' and 'Ser Aveline the Knight'. Winner receives one hundred sovereigns and a later fight against the champion, 'Tattoo'd Stick'." Hawke pursed her lips as she read on. The location was in Darktown, not all the far from Anders clinic. Hawke headed back to Darktown, looking for this place.

She passed by Anders clinic again. Checking to see how he was doing. She was amazed to see his doors always open. With how many Templar's she's seen in this city, she guessed he would keep the doors shut. Hawke raised an eyebrow as she inched closer to the clinic. Anders was pouring a bottle of milk into a bowl.

"Ser-Pounce-A-Lot!" Anders called out as he set the bowl onto the ground. Hawke froze as she felt something rub against her shin. She looked down and saw, who she assumed, was Ser-Pounce-A-Lot rubbing against her, purring. She stared down at the cat, her head tilted. She'd never seen a cat before, at least one that didn't try to kill her. She smiled and knelt down.

"Hey," She spoke softly and scratched the cat behind it's ears, "I think someone is looking for you." The cat purred and walked under her hand, arching it's back to keep contact with her hand. While hypnotized by this furry feline, Anders came to stand behind her, his arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face. Ser-Pounce-A-Lot looked up at Anders and made a noise of satisfaction before running into his clinic.

"I see you like cats," Anders smiled at her once she noticed him.

"Oh? Uh...yeah. They're...ummm...yeah." Hawke averted her eyes as Anders laughed, "Glad to see my unique sense of words amuses you."

"Or just you do." Anders smile only grew as he saw Hawke shift from foot to foot.

"Come to spy on me some more?" Anders motioned for her to follow him into the clinic.

"I wasn't spying," Hawke defended herself as she walked into the clinic.

"And I'm the Queen of Ferelden." Anders joked, closing the door behind Hawke, "I shouldn't have made that joke. She'll eat me alive."

"You know the queen?" Hawke asked, leaning her butt against his desk.

"I do," Anders sat in the cot closest to his desk, "She's the only reason I'm alive."

Hawke crossed her arms and glared at the ground, "You're a Warden."

"How'd you know?" Anders looked down at himself, "I thought I got all the stench of darkspawn blood off me."

Hawke sighed and pushed herself off the table, "I need to go."

"Hawke-"

"Good bye," Hawke walked to the door and opened it, some cats running through the door as she walked out. Anders tilted his head before leaning back on his palms. He's seen her before, he swears he's seen her before.

"But where?" He wondered aloud, earning a few looks from the cats, "What?" He stick his tongue out at them before falling back on the cot.