Sorry about the horrendously long wait on this one. Computer problems and writer's block did not make it easy, but here it is! Hope you like it, if you do tell me why, if you don't, also tell me why. Right. Back to Skyrim it is! Enjoy!

Chapter 4 - A Kiss With a Fist

"Could you stay your dog for a moment, Shem?" a harassed looking elf asked them, as he materialised almost like a vapour from the line of trees in front of them. Hawke's hound had his jaws locked around the cuff of the elf's glove, and was tugging on it whilst emitting a low, menacing growl. Hawke regarded the elf at length, and did not lower her blades. He appeared fairly young, and from the tattoos on his face and his sage coloured armor, she identified him almost immediately as Dalish, one of the truly "free" elves who lived in the forests and wilderness of Thedas. She eyed the mage' staff strapped to his back cautiously.

"Both of them" he added agitatedly, glancing at Anders who stood next to her, a fist of fire in his hand.

"Do you know who you're speaking to?" Fenris growled as the smile slipped from the elf's face.

"You are Hawke" he said nodding towards her, his voice sounding almost accusing.

"And will that be a problem?" she asked, coldly.

He shook his blonde head, "The worries of Shemlen are not mine. That is until they are brought to my doorstep."

Hawke frowned, her cool slipping for a moment, "Hound. Heel."

With some reluctance, the dog retreated, returning to Hawke's side. The elf watched them interestedly, his mouth curved into a smirk.

"I still think that's a stupid name for a Mabari. Hound? Really? You couldn't have thought up something more inventive than that?" Anders mused, forgetting his annoyance for a moment.

"It was the only thing he'd respond to when I found him. And he is a hound, it's not like I called him Puss or something" Hawke replied, defensively.

"It's okay, Hawke. You just stick to killing things. If we ever come to the point where we need to do some actual thinking, well, you leave that to us" Varric grinned.

"I think it's a nice name... It's sort of, ironic" Merrill interjected in her, faraway, effervescent way.

"It's better than Sir Pounce-A-Lot anyway, I think we can all agree on that" Hawke countered.

"Oh yeah."

"Agreed."

"Undoubtedly."

"Is that even a question?"

Anders folded his arms, reproachfully, "Hey! It's not that bad."

The elf in front of them looked slightly dumb-founded as he watched the interplay of words between them; truly, he had never met a stranger bunch of people.

"Erm...?" he interjected, weakly, scratching his head. His mysterious facade was quickly slipping from him.

Hawke shook her head, "I'm sorry. This sort of... Happens sometimes. What is it you want? Is there a child in need of rescuing from a well? Or perhaps a damsel up a tower somewhere?"

"Kitten up a tree?" Anders enquired.

"Is that all you think about?" Fenris frowned, shaking his head.

"It has to be demons. It's always demons. I'd bet five gold on it being demons" Varric said, confidently.

The elf stepped towards her, slightly fazed by the bizarre wordplay between the heavily armed group. He rested a hand on her shoulder familiarly, before leaning forward and murmuring in her ear, "You do know you're being followed?"

Hawke nodded, her demeanor switching sharply to serious, "I had hoped that was you."

Bethany stared at her sister, "And when were you going to mention this?"

"They've been following us since we entered the forest, I wasn't sure of their intent and I didn't want to worry you." She scratched the back of her neck uneasily, "They're not Templars, this is far too... Subtle for them. I didn't want to scare them away if they were potential allies, maybe even other mages."

"I don't know why you're so surprised, it's not like our opinions matter or anything. No, no, we just get told things at the last minute and are expected to go along with whatever harebrained scheme she's come up with..." Anders muttered, sulkily.

"My harebrained schemes have never caused us harm before" Hawke scowled.

"That's not exactly true Hawke. I have several scars which counter that argument" Varric contested, with a smirk.

"You should have told us" Anders interjected.

"Yes, well I didn't" Hawke snapped, gritting her teeth.

Fenris had remained very quiet about the subject, and Hawke couldn't help but think that he too had sensed they were being followed. As she glanced in his direction he nodded, as though he understood.

Hawke sighed, massaging her temples before looking at the lone elf, "Why would you help us?"

The elf surveyed her for a few seconds, and Hawke felt a nagging feeling of deja vu.

"You aren't exactly how I remember you" the elf mused. "You always were something of a wild child. I thought you'd grow to be a little taller, although I suppose you're still easy on the eyes, for a shemlen."

"Should I know you, elf?" Hawke replied, frowning.

He stepped a little closer, eyes boring into hers, "You should, human."

From somewhere a little to the right of her shoulder, Anders shifted uncomfortably.

Hawke scrutinised the elf for a moment. Handsome, if a little overconfident. Strong jawline. Boyish demeanor. Easy charm. Suddenly it clicked.

"Tibris."

"I knew you'd get there eventually" he grinned wolfishly.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Hawke replied, a smile spreading across her face. She turned quickly to her sister, "You probably don't remember. I couldn't have been much older than 16, myself. Don't you remember dad's old friend Arthal?"

Bethany frowned, still looking rather displeased with her sister, "Vaguely. Tibris, you're his son?"

Tibris nodded, "I remember you, though you were only small. And Carver. He's not with you?"

Bethany shook her head to hide the pain in her expression, "He died, a few years back now. The blight."

The smile slipped from his face, "I didn't know that. My condolences. I had heard about your father. We were very sorry to hear it."

Bethany nodded, "I remember your father and ours being close, it's good to know we have some friends out here."

"As touching as this all is, we can't stay here" Anders sounded exasperated. "Or did you forget we're being followed?"

"He's right" Hawke agreed, grudgingly.

Tibris looked at her earnestly, "My father would be glad to see you, I'm sure of it. Come back to our camp, and we can see if we can help you with your problem. It's not far, a few hours walk."

Hawke scrutinised him with the lift of an eyebrow, "You're out here alone?"

Tibris gestured for her to follow and Hawke fell into step alongside him as the others trailed behind, "Much faster and quieter, and I can handle a little action. I was scouting the forest, there's been a lot of movement lately. Lost refugees from Kirkwall, Templars. You've caused us all sorts of trouble."

"It's a talent" Hawke shrugged. "But how do you know about that?"

"Asha'bellanar."

Hawke stared at him, dumbfounded, "Flemeth? She... It, whatever. She was here?"

Tibris nodded, "You'll have to ask my father if you want to know anymore about that though I'm afraid. Though she is something of a, and I use the term loosely, friend to the Dalish. Asha'bellanar rarely talks to anyone other than the Keepers."

Hawke sniffed, "Cold bitch."

Tibris laughed, "Tell me about it. My wife hates her."

"You're married? Oh that's brilliant!" Hawke grinned.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Tibris frowned.

"Of the three of us, I always thought you'd be the last to be married."

"She's lovely actually" he replied, huffily.

"I wasn't disputing that. I can't wait to meet her."

"You're still wearing that thing?" Tibris remarked casually, nodded to the barely concealed necklace around her neck. It consisted of an old worn key and a piece of silver stamped with the Hawke crest, looped through a long piece of scarlet ribbon tied at her throat.

"Old habits die hard. Have you heard from Darrien at all?"

Her companion looked worried for the first time, "No. Nothing. You?"

Hawke shook her head, "Not since I left Lothering."

"I'm sure he's okay, he always was resourceful" Tibris said, reassuringly. Hawke did not share his confidence.

"I'm guessing you aren't married then? Not from what I've heard anyway" he continued, changing the subject without subtlety.

"No" Hawke shook her head remaining expressionless and betraying little of her thoughts on the matter.

Tibris glanced back at Anders, knowingly. Anders, who had been alert and listening to their conversation, raised an exasperated eyebrow at him, "It's not like I haven't asked."

Hawke coughed uncomfortably.

The two continued to talk as the trees became more dense and it was difficult to see the ground as the sky darkened. The group were almost squeezing their way between the trees as they neared the camp, which Anders assumed must be somewhere near the heart of the forest. He had been eavesdropping on most of their conversation, and the more he heard, the less he understood. Frustrated and tired, he said little to the others. Evidently, noticing his overt sulkiness Fenris glanced over at him and smirked as he sidled past.

"What?"

Fenris shook his head, "Just the look on your face."

Clearly sensing the heightening resentment between the two, Bethany calmly interjected and dragged Anders aside, leaving Fenris to join Merrill and Varric's rather odd conversation concerning who they would rather see dipped in nug dung; Meredith or Orsino. Meredith was winning, barely.

"You know, if you're trying to win my sister back you aren't doing a very good job of it" Bethany mused.

Anders groaned, "Oh not this again. I've already felt the wrath of one Hawke woman today and I still have a huge lump on my head to prove it."

Bethany laughed, "I'm not going to hit you, or lecture you for that matter. It's just I know she's hardly happy either, it's a difficult situation."

"Difficult is an understatement" Anders said, with a sigh. He glanced at Hawke ahead of them, as she jumped deftly over a fallen tree. His heart felt heavy in chest.

"They're just old friends, you know. A group of Dalish were camped near Lothering when we were kids, everyone kept their distance except, of course, for my sister. She was out in the woods nearby one day and she was attacked by a bear, and despite being quite ferocious for a twelve year old armed with a dagger, it still would have killed her had Tibris' father not heard the commotion and intervened to save her. Our families have been close ever since. As it was, the Dalish stayed on a little longer than usual, probably because of the increasing Darkspawn numbers. Tibris and my sister grew up together, really. It was always hard for her to make friends, not that you would think it now, and they always got on so well. Our fathers always encouraged it, but it was never like that" Bethany said, in a rather obvious attempt to comfort him.

"Who's Darrien?" he asked her, far too quickly. Immediately, he was agitated with himself for sounding so needy, so jealous. He knew that Hawke had been with other men in the past, as he had been with other women, the thought shouldn't bother him. However, the hushed tones in which Hawke and Tibris had discussed him had only piqued his interest, and the fact she clearly kept a keepsake to remind herself of him. He had seen the necklace before, and now he thought about it she was rarely seen without it. He had had no idea of it's significance. He frowned and continued, "Sorry, it's just she's never mentioned him before."

Bethany paused before replying, considering her words carefully, "Darrien lived in our village. He was born a mage too and when my sister and Tibris found out, instead of telling the Templars, they became friends. However, it isn't really my place to say. Everyone has a skeleton or two in their cupboard, Anders. I suggest you leave that one alone until she's ready to talk about it."

"Now my ears are burning" Hawke grinned uncertainly as she walked towards them, Tibris watching curiously a few metres away. "The camp is just in the valley over that ridge, it might be another hour or so but we're nearly there."

She pointed behind her, to where the land slanted abruptly upwards. Taking stock of his surroundings for the first time, Anders was suddenly aware of the sound of rushing water and a faint lilting music on the evening air.

"Anders, can I talk to you for a moment? Before we go on?" Hawke looked at him expectantly.

"Of course" he replied, his throat feeling dry.

They hung back, allowing the rest of the group to pass them by, until they were almost out of earshot but not out of sight. Despite all the distractions, neither had forgotten that there was someone, or something, trailing their path.

Hawke looked at Anders, breath shuddering in her throat. Though she had been with him all this time, even though she was impossibly angry with him, he still managed flip her stomach with a look. His expression was bemused and his dark brown eyes weary, making him look older then his years. Hesitantly, she took hold of his hand as they walked in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, she ventured, "What do you make of all this?"

"You're asking my opinion now?" he replied stubbornly.

Hawke chose to ignore this, merely gazing at him seriously, "Yes."

"He's your friend not mine. If you trust him then so do I, I have little choice in the matter."

"Don't say it like that, what else could I do? And you do have a choice, you could leave if you wanted" Hawke replied, quietly.

"I'm not going to do that."

Hawke did her best not to look quite so relieved. She tripped slightly over the uneven ground, and Anders tightened his grip on her hand. With his free hand he conjured a light so they could better see their way. Uneasily, Fenris glanced briefly in their direction.

Hawke looked up at Anders unassumingly, "Does this mean you're talking to me?"

Anders folded his arms, a complete bluff as his conviction was so obviously slipping with every passing moment, "Perhaps."

"Did I ever tell you that you look cute when you sulk?" Hawke purred, smiling at him.

"Hawke. This isn't funny" Anders frowned at her.

In the dim light Hawke could see clearly the bruises which lined his cheekbone from the punch she had thrown at him only a few nights before.

She glanced down at the ground, "Does this mean you're coming with me to Ferelden?"

Anders grimaced, "I'm coming with you. I don't want to, but I am."

"I suppose I can't expect anymore than that. Thank you" Hawke nodded. Looking over at Anders again she couldn't help but notice how pale he looked in the soft glow. Concerned she leant forwards despite herself, running a hand through his hair, "You don't look well."

"I don't feel well" he chuckled, humourlessly. "Bodies aren't built for two."

"Anders-"

He smiled at her crookedly, "But if you still think I look cute then I suppose that's alright. I've had preferred handsome or dashing, mind you."

They had come to a small clearing, and Hawke stopped for a moment, "Anders. You're right. You do know this is killing you don't you?"

He avoided meeting her gaze, "Neither of our life expectancies are exactly great, dear."

"And you expect me to watch you kill yourself?" Hawke said testily. "Don't you think it's time? You and Justice, it isn't working. Don't you want to be free? So it could be just us..."

Anders pulled away from her violently, "You know I can't. Kirkwall was just the start. I can't believe you're asking me this!"

"It will never be enough and you know it. Vengeance will never stop, not until every last templar is dead and you with them" Hawke snapped, her eyes stinging.

"It's important, I can't just give up on everything we've worked for. I warned you when I met you that I would only break your heart-"

"Oh don't start with that again. You were giving it all that, whilst all the while you wanted me just as much as I did you" Hawke answered, angrily.

"Of course I did" Anders replied, somewhat more calmly. "That has never changed. What I mean is, you knew what you were getting into."

"Yes, well I though that someday it would change. That I would come first" Hawke looked, down at her feet. "And then you wonder why I won't marry you."

"Well, how could you ever marry someone like me?" Anders growled.

She stared at him aghast, "You know I don't see it that way. It doesn't matter to me that you're a mage, or where you came from. What does matter to me is that you're sharing your body with a demon and it's killing you." In an effort to appease him she stepped closer, "I just want you. Can't you understand that?"

"When you can't even accept me as I am? This is who I am, me and Justice are one and the same" Anders snapped, his eyes flaring a dangerous blue.

Hawke shook her head, "I don't believe that. The Anders I know would follow me into the Deep Roads and back, the entire time complaining about how he was going to get dirt on his robes. He'd climb a tree to save a blighted cat, heal a complete stranger without asking for thanks and try and go drink for drink with Varric in the Hanged Man until he ended up under the table! I've seen that side of you, and I know it's the real one. If you were in your right mind, you wouldn't blow up a Chantry."

There was a silence between them in which he stared at her, and for a brief moment she thought he had listened, that just perhaps he had understood. That was until he frowned and his eyes dropped from hers, "I know what you want, but I just can't give it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hawke asked, barely able to contain her own anger, her heart beating hard and panicked against her chest.

"I am Justice. And I can't be anything else."

It might have been different if he has at least looked sad, or apologetic or something other than defiant. His eyes were flat, as though he were stating a simple fact or equation she was failing to understand. As her hands once again balled into fists, Hawke took a deep, calming breath. She stood back and really looked at him, and it was like she could see the demon that lived within him for the first time. The air around him seemed to crackle, white hot as his magic melded with Justice's own power, casting an eery glow over his wan skin. It shocked her that she never noticed how thin he was, how ill he looked. How lifeless.

"I should have stopped it before it got this far" Hawke said, her voice shaking.

It was like flicking a switch, as he acknowledged her words and snapped out of it. He gazed at her, completely thrown, "What are you saying?"

She wondered, dumbly, if had been an act all along. If it was just Justice using a body as puppet, or if Anders was still in there somewhere, fighting to hold onto his identity. As she stared into his eyes, even as they stirred with unknown emotions, she knew that he had given up. He had given in to the spirit, accepted it and welcomed it into his very soul. Now Justice was something closer to a demon, Anders still felt no desire to extradite it from his body. He was the very kind of mage her father had hated, her sister struggled continuously never to become, and many of whom Hawke had been forced to put down.

"Those people in the Chantry - their deaths are my fault. I knew you were an abomination, but I never realised what you were doing to yourself, what you could possibly do to others. Because you were mine, I never realised how dangerous you were." Hawke folded her arms, fingernails digging into exposed skin as she gripped herself tightly. She made the mistake of meeting his eyes, and upon seeing the panic within them, had to mentally push herself to continue. Slowly, she pulled one of her blades from her back, holding it loosely in her hand. She looked at it thoughtfully for a moment all too aware that Anders was watching her, all the while looking hurt and confused.

"I can't kill you, but neither can I allow this to go on" Hawke said flatly, as tears filled her eyes. He took a step toward her, and Hawke shifted backwards, "I still love you, I want you to know that, but it isn't enough Anders."

"Hawke."

She turned her back on him, wiping a tear from her cheek dismissively, "The Templars will think you are still with us, this is your best chance if you want to outrun them."

"No, you can't do this. I-"

"Just go, Anders" Hawke started walking towards the others up ahead, oblivious to the events occurring behind them.

"But, Kitty please..."

Hawke hesitated at the use of her first name, looking back over her shoulder at him. An odd whistling sound filled her ears, followed by a soft thump. She only had a second, in which she looked to Anders and saw the terror with which he regarded her. Then her world exploded with pain. Hawke slowly looked down at her thigh, and at the arrow embedded within it. Staring at the bloody puncture in her leg Hawke didn't see the second arrow fly through the air, higher than the first. It her in the chest, knocking her off her feet and onto the ground. She lay there for a moment as the world dimmed, slowly going black as she listened to the staggered, desperate hitching of her own breath.