Sorry this took so long, it would have only taken a week had my MacBook not decided to die on me spectacularly! Still, it's all good now. Thank you for all the feedback, it's been amazing I could not believe the amount of favourites/alerts the first chapter got. Double thanks to people who reviewed too, it's really lovely to know what people think. But I'm going to shut up now and let you read!

Chapter 2 - A Wish and a Warning

Hawke groaned as an annoying chirruping sound disturbed her sleep. She tried to ignore it but it felt as though it were drilling itself into her skull. With a sigh, she mumbled, "Anders, go kill that bird would you?"

She turned onto her side, reaching out for him. Much to Hawke's confusion, her extended fingers clutched at grass, not blanket as she realised her head was resting against a rock, not a much more comfortable pillow. After a brief moment's surprise, in which she struggled to remember where she was, the events of the night before came crashing back. Rolling onto her front she frowned, "Oh Maker."

On her other side she could she could feel her hound curled up contentedly beside her. Hawke reached out and stroked his soft ears, the sensation oddly calming somehow. As her memories came back, the dull pain that plagued her limbs returned. She stretched her tired legs, one of them felt stiff, and was difficult to move. She groaned in pain, her body was flagging, with no adrenaline and little sleep, there was nothing keeping it running anymore. Opening her eyes, Hawke looked up toward the sky. The trees around her stretched toward the pale morning sun, which was already a good way in it's path in the sky. They would have to move soon.

Sitting up, Hawke rubbed her head tiredly. She could not have had more than three hours sleep, and it had been restless at best. Leaning on her knees, she scanned the camp quickly. For the most part, everyone was still sleeping soundly (particularly loudly in Varric's case, so loudly in fact she was surprised he hadn't brought the Templars down upon them already). There was however, someone missing.

"Anders?" she called him quietly, a knot tightening in her throat.

The memory of his crestfallen face after she had hit him swam into her mind, and she dragged her boots from her pack, putting them on swiftly, fearful he may have done something drastic. She stood slowly and carefully, testing her weight on her aching leg, almost losing her balance as she gasped in agony. She limped forwards, calling to her Mabari, "Come on boy, come on. Where's Anders, where is he?"

Her hound sat up, growling at her words. Hawke had always thought that her dog had always been averse to Anders simply because he was a cat person, but now she thought about it, it may have been more to do with Justice. Mabari were always uneasy around areas where the veil was thin, or where demons roamed. Anders was almost a walking embodiment of everything a Mabari detested.

"Come on boy, please?" she implored him.

He cocked his head to one side, staring at her. Before running ahead of her and through the trees, barking happily.

Hawke shook her head, "I will never understand that dog."

Nevertheless, Hawke followed, making her way through the trees slowly. It was not long before he began barking again excitedly, and as she cleared the line of trees, Hawke saw Anders stood at the summit of the same small hill upon which she had been sat the night before. Her hound was bounding around him, and Anders was staring at him, looking perplexed. Hawke took a long stick which had fallen to the ground by her feet, and slowly, mindful of her fragile limbs, she picked her way up the hill towards him. As she reached Ander's side, she threw the stick as hard as she could into the valley below, causing her hound to go tearing after it enthusiastically. She turned to Anders, "I thought you'd gone."

He shook his head, not looking at her, instead gazing down at the countryside below.

Hawke shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, before turning her attention to him once more, "I shouldn't have hit you. Come here. Let me have a look."

She reached out tentatively and touched his face, relieved when he didn't recoil. Even at a first glance, his nose was obviously broken, the area around it was bruised and swollen, she had even managed to split his lip.

"You're lucky you're so handsome, otherwise the townspeople would be chasing you with pitchforks by now" Hawke mused.

Anders cocked an eyebrow, his eyes meeting hers, "Aren't they already?"

Hawke stroked the bruise down his cheek, wincing "That's true."

There was an awkward moment of silence, and they quickly looked away from each other. Hawke dropped her hand.

"I did deserve it though" Anders conceded.

"What the smack? Or the pitchforks?" Hawke asked him, with a ghost of a smile.

"Well, both. But I was referring to the smack" Anders replied, earnestly.

"I'd like to say I'm sorry, but..."

"You're not?"

"No."

"That's fair."

Anders regarded her carefully, before reaching out and taking her hand, "I really am sorry."

Hawke nodded, swallowing hard, "It's alright, you don't have to pretend anymore Anders."

Anders stared at her, "I don't follow..."

She avoided his eyes. The blase way in which she joked about it was a carefully crafted facade, one which she had perfected over the years. As Kirkwall's Champion, she had been forced to adopt something of a dispassionate, detached persona, something which reflected little of her real personality. Hawke had started out well, and she still held true to her beliefs, she fought corruption and always attempted to find the most peaceful course of action. However, she no longer felt the strong conviction she once had. Her mother's death had been the real catalyst, that and Ander's incapability at being a source of comfort despite his efforts. It moved her the most now, and she realised she barely knew who she was anymore, and with Ander's personality slowly slipping away to be replaced by Vengeance, she didn't know who he was either. It made her uncertain, and she questioned things which would have not considered before. Things that she needed to voice.

"Hawke?"

She refocused upon him, "I know why I had to distract the Grand Cleric now. I know why you had to get close to me - if you hadn't, I would have questioned what you were doing. You needed me to trust you." Aware her voice was shaking Hawke paused before continuing. "I also know that living with me must have seemed like the best way of protecting yourself. When you were with me, the Templars daren't touch you."

"Is that really what you think?" Anders asked her, looking horrified.

Hawke shrugged, " I don't know what to think."

"Hey," he closed the remaining gap between them, placing a hand on her waist and drawing her toward him. "Look at me."

Hawke stared at him, the terrible feeling that had been clawing at her chest dissipating slightly. She could not hold his gaze however, staring off into the distance at her hound, who was sat at the foot of the hill chewing his stick happily.

"I know what I've done is unforgivable. I do see that now, and I will do everything I can to make it up to you, I promise. And if you don't want me... Well, that's fine too. But I need you to believe me when I say that I didn't plan this. I never planned on you." He pressed his hand to her face, "I love you. How could I not?"

Ander's fingers felt oddly cold against her skin, but Hawke did not draw away. He ran a hand up her arm, feeling at the rough bandages, "Will you let me heal your arm now?"

She nodded, and without speaking he began to unwind the bandage slowly, careful not to cause her any pain. The bandages were stained dark with her blood, and she had lost far more than she expected. Seeing it seemed to remind her subconscious, and before she knew what was happening her knees buckled. Anders caught her swiftly, lowering her gently to the ground. Supporting her back with one arm he sat beside her, "Can you stay sat up?"

Hawke nodded, resting her spinning head on her unmaimed arm, holding back the sudden urge to be sick.

Anders knelt over her, looking incredibly worried. He almost felt responsible, if he had known her injuries were so bad, he would have demanded she had it seen to straight away. It was not like Hawke to ignore something like this, and in truth it was her mental state he was more concerned about. For several months he had been slowly becoming aware of the fact that Hawke had been repressing things, she barely talked about Carver, and she hadn't spoken about her mother since the day she died. It shocked him that he hadn't noticed this before, he had thought she was dealing with it in her own way, but perhaps that was just his own selfish reasoning. He had had more important things to worry about.

He brushed the hair out of her wan face, "How much sleep have you had?"

Hawke shook her head, "A few hours, I don't know. I kept having nightmares..."

Anders took her arm again as his fingertips began to glow blue. The wound began to close up, and a small amount of colour returned to Hawke's cheeks.

"Thank you" she murmured, her eyes still half-closed.

He sat down next to her, "You're exhausted, Hawke. You need rest."

"I'm just tired of it, Anders" she replied agitatedly. "It's hard being the one every looks to to pick up the pieces all the time, you know. And then I look around and who's there for me?"

"You still have me" he said.

"Yes, but I'm slowly losing you. I'm terrified that one morning I'm going to wake up and you won't be there anymore, it'll just be Vengeance. You can't imagine what that feels like" Hawke muttered, with something of an accusatory tone.

"No, I don't suppose I can." Anders paused, "But I can try my best to make sure it never happens."

"Your best?" she looked him, tiredly. "Don't you see Anders? I wish it wasn't so but your best is never good enough. You always lose."

He stared at her for a long time, for such a long time that Hawke was afraid of what he would do. To her complete surprise he reached out and pulled her onto his lap, "Then I suppose I'm going to have to try harder. I told you I'd make it up to you."

Anders pulled his coat around them both, to ensure she was comfortable, as Hawke lay between his legs, her head on his chest.

"We need to talk, about everything. But you're right, it's not the right time yet. I want to make sure you're safe first, then we can really have it out. You can even hit me again if you like" he murmured, holding her tightly.

Hawke tried to fight it, but nestled into his chest she just couldn't remove herself. It was the first time she had felt safe in days, though she knew how ridiculous this was. But she was with Anders, and though every logical thought screamed that it was a mistake, she was deaf to them. It was Ander's scent that surrounded her, his fingers tracing circles up her back, and his warm breath on her neck. It was almost intoxicating.

"Sleep for a while. We made good time yesterday and others aren't up yet. I'll wake you when we're ready to move" Anders concluded.

Hawke looked up at him, prepared to frown and tell him he was wrong, that he couldn't possibly know what was best for her, that she simply wanted him to leave her alone. This proved difficult however, as he caught her looking at him and smiled. It was that crooked smile that had always won her over, the earnest crease of his eyebrows, and the beguiling curve of his lips. It seemed even more potent this time however, as there was a fresh look about him, there was no frown hiding within his expression. Before she could stop and think about what she was doing, she reached up and pulled him towards her, pressing her lips against his. She felt his body tense almost immediately, and after a few fervid seconds in which they were both incapable of moving, he pulled away.

Eyes full of uncertainty Anders asked her, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Nodding slightly, she stroked her fingers down this back. She pressed her lips against his neck, tracing them up his collar bone, "Don't you want me, Anders?"

Anders didn't reply, merely staring at her for a few seconds, and she could almost feel the bound up tension within him. I didn't take him long to make up his mind however, as he pulled her against him, and kissed her with a renewed vigour. She relaxed, feeling a heaving sense of relief. Whether it was good for her or not, Hawke was painfully aware that she needed Anders. She needed the arms which pressed her close to him, and the heady, breathless kisses they shared. They remained like that for quite some time, lost once again in each other, until Anders stopped her reluctantly, "Please. It's taking all my strength to resist you but you need to rest, you're not well, Hawke. I didn't mean to take advantage of you like that, I'm sorry."

Resting her head against his chest, Hawke sighed, "You weren't, Anders. It's alright."

Anders sat with her until she fell asleep, and longer still. He still couldn't quite believe what had occurred in the last few hours. He had expected to be alone or imprisoned or most probably dead at this point, he had made no plans for what would happen next. His mind was clearer somehow, as though he were more himself. It made him hopeful, for once he felt like there was a future to look forward to. Maybe it was being away from the oppressive walls of Kirkwall, perhaps it was the fresh air, or maybe it was purely the fact the woman he loved had spared his life.

After a while, he stood and careful not to wake Hawke he carried her back to camp. He whistled to her hound who bounded after them, cheerfully oblivious to all that had occurred. It was not difficult, she was not heavy and Anders was stronger than he looked. He lay her back down on the grass and after removing his coat, Anders covered her with it. Hawke snuggled into it in her sleep, pushing her face into the fur-lined collar. It was surprisingly adorable for a woman so widely thought of as being exceedingly deadly, and Anders immediately decided it would be better all around if he did not inform her of this. He wanted to keep all of his teeth.

He sat heavily on the ground next to her, lost in his own thoughts. So distracted was he, Anders had not noticed that Fenris was sat cross-legged, wide awake and was currently boring a hole into the side of his head.

"What did you do? the elf demanded, looking incredibly fearsome for someone so slight.

Anders blinked, "What? Nothing."

Fenris got to his feet, stalking across the camp towards him, "Where did you take Hawke?"

"I didn't take her anywhere, she came to find me if you must know" Anders replied, testily.

"Why would she do anything of the sort after what happened last night?" Fenris asked, pacing back and forth, tempestuously.

"Maybe you should ask her that" Anders replied, dryly.

"Oh don't worry, I will" Fenris countered, an edge of menace to his words. "However you've bewitched her, whatever it is you've done, you'll pay for this."

"Bewitched her?" Anders scoffed, getting to his feet, a feeling of vicious curiosity had taken over him. "What is this about, Fenris? This isn't even a mage thing for once is it? This about Hawke."

Fenris watched him coldly, but did not say a word.

"This is because she chose me over you, isn't it?" Anders snarled, speaking over him as Fenris tried to interrupt, "Don't even try and deny it. I've seen the way you look at her, believe me I've given a lot of similar looks myself."

"I would be careful what you say, mage. Just because she's too decent to kill you, doesn't mean that I'd have a problem ripping your filthy little heart out" Fenris hissed, his voice threateningly low.

"Or maybe she didn't kill me because she loves me" Anders replied, folding his arms.

"She's taken in by you, that's all. No one could love an abomination" Fenris sneered.

Anders faltered, "I'm not an- Shut up, Hawke doesn't see me that way."

Fenris laughed humourlessly, "You're kidding yourself. We all think you're an Abomination, even Hawke."

'Why is it that you don't just kill me then? It's not like you'd have a problem, tearing hearts out left right and centre, murder comes easy to you." Anders advanced on the elf, and they stared at each other.

"Ironic coming from a man who's just blown up a building full of innocent people" Fenris answered, quietly.

"Come on then, try it. Kill me" Anders glared at him.

Both men remained were they were for several seconds, each attempting to stare the other one down, a part of them hoping the other would start something.

After a time, Fenris wrinkled his nose, "You're disgusting, you don't even know who you are anymore, and frankly you're not worth my time."

Anders didn't move, watching the elf closely, "You're only confirming what I said. The only reason you having tried to kill me yet is because of Hawke."

"I don't care what you think, that's not my concern. You hurt Hawke again and then it becomes my concern. One wrong move, one small slip on your part, then it doesn't matter who tries to protect you, I will kill you. I promise you that."

Fenris turned his back on Anders; clearly in his mind the conversation was over. In the light of the morning sun, Anders stared after him as Fenris walked away and, despite himself, an ominous sense of foreboding crept through his bones.