Merrill leant into her hands, watching Isabela casually lay her cards on the table. Varric cursed and tossed his down, and the pirate's eyes sparkled.

"I don't get it," Merrill softly said. "How did you do that? You didn't have that card bef-"

"Kitten, be a doll and get me another drink?" Isabela smiled brightly, touching the elf's cheek. "And we'll deal you in the next round, mm?

"I should know better than to play you," Varric murmured, smacking a trio of silvers down.

"But it's always so fun," Isabela purred, and Merill stood up from the table to head down to the bar. As she reached for the coin, Hawke laid down her hand.

"Isn't it just?" Hawke smiled, and Isabela made a frustrated sound, throwing the coin at her.

Hawke's eyes sparkled as she gathered it up, when Anders strode through Varric's palatial suite and into the small room at the back. The conversation stopped and they looked back. Merrill returned, setting down a pitcher beside Isabela.

"Did someone break something?" she nervously laughed. "I always tried to hide and be quiet when I did something wrong."

"You're fine, Kitten," Isabela said, slowly grinning. She patted her thigh, "Come sit here and you can play the next round."

Varric glanced at Hawke, who snagged and pocketed her coins, "Where'd he come from?"

"I don't know," she quietly replied. "I don't follow him all the time, you know."

"Uh huh," the dwarf said, shaking his hand as Isabela dealt. Hawke laid down an ante as he said, "And I'm the most righteous man in Lowtown."

"He was gone all night," Hawke replied, arching her brow. "I do need my beauty sleep you know."

"But it's past noon," Merrill said, taking the cards Isabela slipped her.

"I happen to be quite beautiful," Hawke lightly smiled at the mage. Anders soon emerged, his eyes dark, and he scarce waved as he disappeared down the steps and out of the bar proper.

Isabela lit a rolled leaf, sucking deep as she nodded at Merrill and leant close to the girl's ear, whispering under her breath.

"Oh, like that you mean?" Merrill rearranged the stained cards in her hands. "Maybe this is easier with something to drink…"

"You only need ask," Varric chuckled and slid her a cup. "I knew you'd fall to our sinful ways some day."

"It doesn't seem so bad," Merrill said, pouring a bit of whiskey. She smelt it before taking a sip and shaking her head, "Your wicked ways, I mean, not this dreadful drink."

Hawke folded her cards and tossed them on the table with a few coins to follow, "Sorry to step out, ladies, perhaps I'll find you later."

As she walked away from the table, Varric lamented, "Shit, I guess that doesn't leave me much choice. Deal me in."

Hawke beat Anders down to his clinic and was leaning against the door jam when he came up the stairs through Darktown. "Are you alright? I worry when I see you brooding like some former Tevinter slave whom shall remain nameless."

Anders wouldn't meet her gaze, adjusting the heavy satchel in his arms. Shifting his weight, he said, "Come inside…" He drifted around the clinic, and Hawke waited as he put a small bowl of milk by the door.

"You had one of your meetings today, didn't you?"

"I was supposed to," Anders replied, throwing his satchel on the ground and spilling the parchment within.

"Your fan club not as eager to see you today?"

Anders laughed once, emptily as he said, "That's one way of putting it. Two of my good friends from the Circle – contacts on the inside – they… they've been made Tranquil. There's nothing I could do."

"Anders, I'm so sorry," Hawke said, shaking her head. She followed him deeper into the clinic. "If there's anything I can do. Knock heads or something – cut some templar heels?"

"You stick your neck out as is for the mages here. You've already done so much," he said, his voice growing raw. "More than I could have ever asked from a friend. More than I deserve."

"It's not like I don't get anything out of it," Hawke said, "Delightful company and excellent reading material."

"You actually read it?" Anders turned to her.

"It might be more… bedtime reading for me, I must say," Hawke grinned up at him as he shook his head. "But of course I read it."

Anders head hung heavy as he tried to busy his hands, until finally he said, "One day we'll make a world where your sister can be free again."

"I know," Hawke said, looking up to him. "I don't know what it would do to me if the templars locked you up too."

Making a soft sound, Anders looked at her, eyes weighted, "Why come down here, Marian?"

Hawke placed a hand high on her breast, glancing around, "Perhaps I've not been as obvious as I imagined but… I rather enjoy your company, Anders." Her voice softened, "And you're upset. You need me to be here."

"What I need doesn't matter."

"Of course it does, silly man," Hawke said, "You have needs just like the rest of us. Dreams, desires, passions… do you deny yourself because of all this?"

Anders finally looked to her, his hand coiling closed, "It seems like the best course some days. There are other drives in me – this need for justice I cannot deny."

Hawke looked down, reaching to ease open his hand and fit hers in it. "I can help you with it, of course. And other drives, mm?"

Expression lightening, Anders chuckled a bit, looking over her face, "It isn't that I don't want it, you know. I think about you all the time… and it just gets harder to hold back."

Licking her lips, Hawke shrugged and grinned coquettishly, "So why resist, Anders? Certainly not for me."

Anders eyes traced her lips, and he exhaled before reaching for her cheek. Pulling Hawke to him, he kissed her roughly, pinning the woman close as his lips parted with hers, deepening the stolen affection. Her hands touched his waist, dragging up the snaps of his jacket and drawing a soft moan. He stepped into her, forcing her back a step, his lips almost bruising with their need.

When he pulled away, Hawke sucked in a trembled breath, and Anders rested his forehead against hers, "This will be a disaster... but if we die tomorrow, I don't want to miss this."

"I have that effect," Hawke softly said, slowly grinning.

"I can't give you a normal life," Anders whispered, looking down as he took her hand. "We'll be hunted, hated no matter what."

"That's nothing new to me, Anders," Hawke said, squeezing his hand.

There were sounds at the clinic door.

"I want to see you… just you, away from all these eyes," Anders replied, his fingers dragging over her cheek and snagging in her hair. He kissed her roughly again, and Hawke exhaled hard through her nose. Letting her go, he swallowed and looked away, "Tonight? Don't… don't say yes or no, just… if your door is open tonight, I'll know. Give you another chance to heed my warning and escape."

"Escape," Hawke breathily replied. "Can't imagine a girl who would want to escape that…"

Anders shook his head as he moved towards the door, inhaling deeply to distance himself, "Well, the opportunity's there…"

Hawke waved her hand at Bodahn as she began to speak, quickly saying, "Another day."

"Alright, messere," the dwarf replied, disappearing into the library.

Hawke spent the rest of the afternoon busying herself in the markets rather than pacing at home, but as the sun dipped below the walls, she returned to Hightown. Up the stairs into her room, she removed her armour and left it haphazardly on the ground by her desk, pacing back towards the kindled fire in the hearth.

It had been years since she'd been with anyone worthwhile - that she remembered. It had all been meaningless since the war. The high energy on the field leading to Ostagar, sexual tensions had snapped and she'd certainly had her share of lovers. Men like her, who had never been to war, afraid of dying and wanting to cling to something joyous that made the body sing.

Carver's death and the flight from Ferelden had left a vacancy inside, compounded by Bethany's imprisonment in the Gallows. For all her lewd innuendo and lack of shame, she'd been alone ever since they came to Kirkwall.

She had begun to think Anders merely tolerated her coy glances and teasing because he respected her - not that he actually wanted her. Hawke touched her lips and looked into the fire, blinding the rest of her room in darkness as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Somehow that kiss let her think about everything she'd said to him, every half-truth and joke to tease and urge him on. It had all been there in that kiss, and even then, there had been restraint.

What if he didn't come?

Hawke turned at the sound of steps, a thrill inside as she saw Anders, "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

"I'm still a man, for all your teasing," Anders said, shutting the door behind him. "Even if Justice doesn't approve of my... obsession with you."

"Obsession?" Hawke said, grinning. "You've been holding out on me."

Anders took off his coat, laying it on her desk with his staff beside it, before coming back to her, "I suppose I have... It's been hard not to think about you all these years. You've done so much to help mages - to help me. But he thinks you're a distraction."

"So you keep saying," Hawke chuckled, tilting her head. "Is it so wrong to want something for yourself?"

"I thought this part of me was gone," Anders replied, touching over her cheek as she stood by the fire. "In the Circle, love was just something else the templars could use against you. Something they could take from you."

"I must be all the more appealing then," Hawke lightly said, tracing her hands up his chest.

"I think this might be the rule I enjoy breaking the most," Anders replied, leaning in to kiss her and wrap his arms around her.

Drawing a deep breath, Hawke tilted into his hungry lips, and he pinned her close once more, taking lengthening kisses amidst heated breaths. When she pulled away, Anders followed, and their eyes met as he leant over her. He slid his hand in hers, pressing her onto the bed as they kissed again, bodies grinding together.

"Do we need these clothes?" Hawke asked in a breath, laying her head back as his lips suckled down her neck.

Anders grinned against her, catching her other hand as he replied, "And if I simply wish to worship slowly and properly?"

Pressing into his hands, Hawke closed her eyes, shivering into his mouth, "Sometimes a quick and dirty prayer is the best. There is always time for a more... lengthy adulation once you have been cleansed."

"I see," he sighed into her neck, lips up over her ear to draw a tensed sigh. Hawke was nimble though, and her leg crept past his waist. Anders pinned her hands into the blanket, grinding into her again as he kissed her, tongues meeting to play. When he let go of her hands, they were in his robes, fumbling with the buckles and loops, loosening them in the most awkward manner. Her leg found purchase and she rolled him on the bed, kneeling up over top of him to suck a deep breath.

"Still overdressed," she purred, and he lost sight as she pulled more of his clothing off.

Anders slipped his hands up her shirt, fingers seeking skin as she leant down and kissed him again. Hawke moved her arms, and he pulled the garment off, tossing it aside and letting himself feel her again. She leant into his rough hands, breasts mushed beneath them as she toyed with his lips. He groaned deeply as Hawke cupped his head, teeth tugging his bottom lip.

Rolling her again, Anders snagged the waist of her leggings, pulling them off only to be drawn back as Hawke tangled his arms and took off his shirt. They were kissing again, her wrist in his hand as her free fingers rode down his kempt loins. He bit her breast in reply, prompting a gasp and jerk that urged their bodies closer.

"Overdressed," she whispered against his cheek, his stubble dragging on her skin as she stole another kiss, and he couldn't help but grin. Lying atop her, Anders ground against her smalls, dry humping to meet the rise of her hips in reply. It drew a deeper moan as she turned aside for breath, "Maker!"

Hawke tried to jostle free, their legs wrestling together, and it brought another grin to Anders. She met his eyes, breathing roughly beneath him. He let go of her wrist, trailing down her arm to grasp her breast, toying with the nipple to make her squirm. She made a frustrated sound, and her fingers caught in the waist of his breeches. Closing his eyes, he took her nipple in her mouth, shifting his weight to kick them off.

"You - you want this?" he quietly asked, leaning and touching over her brow. "I've dreamt about you... for so long..."

Dilated eyes swimming, Hawke pulled him closer, muttering, "Fuck me, Anders, no more teasing."

The stress gone from his features, Anders shook his head, taking her lips again as he pinned her down and thrust in.