Chapter Four

Hawke had spent the rest of the day finishing up loose ends in Lowtown with the help of Bethany and Varric, handling the Carta group playing on the populace's faith in the Maker with fake pouches of Andraste's ashes and collecting the 'accidental' pay from a guard from her troubles. The trip to the Chanter's Board had been eventful as well, the Grand Cleric herself had been there, arguing with a man in stunning gold and white armour and mail – a man she had later found out was the sole surviving heir to the throne in Starkhaven. Someone she wanted to know for obvious reasons – it would be good to have a prince in her debt.

The blonde had told the Sister on duty that she planned on taking up the task and had gotten a few details before leaving, sending the dwarf walking beside her a smug told-you-so look. The last stop of the day had been Aveline so she could plead for the future Guard-Captain's help with the apostate tonight; it had taken a little convincing but the red head had conceded that she owed Marea a favour and had promised to be in the square waiting for them.

After that however, with nothing else left to do, she had been forced to return home to face her mother.

Past the customary bob of her head, Marea hadn't said a word to Leandra as she entered the hovel she called home and had immediately gone to the desk, patting her uncle's shoulder as he groused about the number of letters she got. From the corner of her eye she could see the older woman watching her, only stopping when Bethany distracted her with soft whispers about their day.

Meeran had sent her a couple of notes, roughly scribbled on tattered bits of parchment stained with liquid of varying shade and hue – liquid that she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to think about. Despite their differences he'd promised to send work her way when the Red Iron couldn't finish the jobs themselves and she wasn't too proud to pick around his scraps; if it kept them fed and helped pay off this tall order for the expedition then she was game. Work from a dwarf called Anso and a merchant, Hubert, in Hightown...

Urgh...Orleasians...Best leave Kodi here when we go to see him, or else he'll accuse me of being a 'flaming Dog Lord'.

Placing the letters aside she made a mental note to visit both of them and retrieved both purses of coin from the pouches on her belt before stalking to her room with her habitual thanks to Gamlen as the man finished their evening meal. Counting out the money she was putting towards the expedition fund Hawke sat on her bed, silently mulling over everything that had happened since she woke in the morning; Kodi snuffled at her hand, having gotten bored of trying to beg for leftovers from Gamlen and had padded in to check on his mistress, and she scratched behind his ears absently.

So far an argument hadn't been forthcoming, but she could feel the tension crackling and shifting in the atmosphere like the calm before a particularly bad storm - like when they'd been in the clinic and Anders' magic had swelled suddenly to fill the air with the tangy flavour of lightening and sulphur.

Anders...

Irene certainly hadn't been exaggerating when she'd described him, but she agreed with the woman; the healer needed to smile more. And to her shock, and discomfort, she realised with a lurch that she wanted to be the one to make him smile; perhaps with a silly barb or from her inane clumsiness when she wasn't in combat. Marea could imagine what he would look like laughing, he had the hint of a dimple in his right cheek when he spoke and she was certain it would only deepen if he actually grinned, his teeth gleaming in the half-light of Darktown. He would look dangerous, and exhilarating; and those eyes would light up with joy as bright as any spell...

Groaning softly the blonde dug the heels of the palms into her eyes her body warming pleasantly as she thought about the apostate before slowly looking down at the Mabari at her feet. He lifted his head at the attention and whined in concern, only placated when she rubbed his muzzle, rolling her eyes at his daft behaviour. "You have no idea how lucky you are," she mumbled and bit her lower lip. "I wish I was a Mabari, and then someone could look after me all the time and I could just lie in front of the fire warming my forepaws."

Dinner had been even more awkward than usual. Gamlen sat grumpily at the head of the table as he did every other night, scowling down at his soup and day-old bread attentively...as if the liquid should suddenly congeal, hop from the bowl and make a break for the door – and knowing what his cooking was like Marea wasn't really surprised. She sat opposite him at the farthest end, prodding an over cooked carrot with the end of her spoon with a perpetual look of disgust; she'd offered Kodi the bread but even her 'eat-first-puke-it-up-later' Mabari turned his nose up at it. Bethany was oddly silent – usually she tried to fill the sordid event with chatter, hoping to get them to actually talk like 'normal' families, but tonight she just ate her soup in silence, her gaze flickering between their mother and her older sister.

Leandra was stock still, her hands in her lap and refusing to so much as touch the bile that Gamlen had seen fit to prepare for them; which, Hawke thought, was completely petulant and childish since she barely lifted a finger to help her brother around the house. After ten minutes or so of the suffocating silence she suddenly slammed her hand down on the table and got to her feet, glowering at her eldest.

"I forbid you from going to the Chantry tonight."

For a moment Marea was too shocked to say anything, her mouth comically open with her spoon half inside; however she quickly recovered and placed the mouthful of soup she'd been about to force down her throat back in the bowl and turned her cold eyes to her mother. "You forbid mefrom going to help a man save his friend?" she scoffed and leant back in her seat with a dark chuckle, watching as her fearsome war hound whimpered pathetically before shuffling under the table.

The older woman crossed her arms attempting to draw on her old reserves, the reserves that she had used when Marea had been much younger; when she'd still had a relationship with the girl. "He is an apostate, Marea and he wants you to help sneak him past the Templars, think of your sister."

"I'm not forcing Bethany to come," Hawke hissed and hopped to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process. "If she thinks it's too much of a risk then she is perfectly free to stay and hide behind your skirts. And unless you forgot, mother, Bethany is an apostate."

"This is different, young lady and you know it; she is your sister, she has never done a thing wrong in her life but this mage – "

"Does more than Bethany has done in her entire life - than we do. He helps people, he heals them and he does it even under the Templar's scrutiny so don't you dare stand there and have the gall to tell me that he's not worth helping."

Throwing her hands in the air Leandra advanced on her daughter until they were toe to toe, each female holding each other's fierce gaze as she raised a finger to point in Hawke's face. "I don't know what you're playing at or who you think you are Marea, but you are walking on thin ice. Gambling, drinking, running around Maker knows where at unholy hours of the morning and night? If your fatherwas here and he saw you acting like this he would be utterly ashamed of you."

"Well father isn't here is he?" the blonde ground out quietly, the venom dripping from her words making Bethany's hair stand up on end. "And if he was I doubt he'd have let it get this far in the first place. You're the one that hasn't given a shitfor years, you can't suddenly start acting like the worried, concerned mother as and when it suits you."

Turning on her heel Marea strode across the room to pick up her harness, swinging it over her shoulders and strapping it in place before sheathing her daggers in the scabbards at her back. Tearing open the parcels on the far table she restocked her pouches with potions, poisons and grenades before whistling to Kodi, watching stony-eyed as he tentatively crept from beneath the dining table and padded to her side.

Gamlen had gotten to his feet and was muttering to his sister in hushed tones trying to calm the woman down, though she was vehemently fighting against his attempts and cast dark, filthy looks in her daughter's direction. Bethany was still sat prone at the table staring down at her soup.

"Are you coming or not?"

The brunette looked up at her sister's flat question and slowly nodded, standing and disappearing to their room to retrieve her staff. She mumbled a soft goodbye to their near-hysterical mother and swept towards the door Hawke was holding open for her.

"If you walk out of that door, Marea, Andraste be my witness, I shant have a good word to say to you!"

Bethany felt her sibling stiffen impossibly at the threat and watched as the blonde turned to send a dark smirk over her shoulder, "And what have the last twelve years been? Practise? Curse my name as much as you like, mother, see if I care."

"Andraste's dimpled butt cheek, what's wrong with you?" Varric asked quietly as Hawke stormed towards him with Bethany and the Mabari cowering some distance behind her.

"Just another day in the Hawke household," she growled in answer making it perfectly clear that she didn't want to talk about what had just happened with anyone.

Marea took a deep breath and stopped in front of him, her hands curled into fists by her sides before she reached into one of the compartments on her belt to retrieve her gloves. Tugging them on in jerky movements and immediately started stalking to the large staircase cut into the stone that led up to Hightown.

"Let's go. Maker there had better be trouble; I need to stab something..."

As it was their trip to the Chantry had been surprisingly quiet; and Hawke's sour mood hadn't really improved – especially not when she heard her sister quietly giving the bare bones of the argument she and Leandra had had to Varric and Aveline.

She wasn't exactly sure what had stopped her from turning her wrath on the three people behind her, but it might have had something to do with the soft whimper Kodi had whined at her, almost in warning. And sighing, she'd reached down to pat the dog's head stiffly and forced herself to take a deep breath; fighting when she was fuming over something that had happened was never good, she got distracted and would then suffer for it by having to stitch up the wound later.

The knot of anger inside her stomach slowly loosened into a writhing snake of anxiety at the prospect of seeing Anders again, and she slowed her ascent of the long stairs to the Chantry until she was walking next to the red headed warrior. Smiling sheepishly in Aveline's direction she accepted the squeeze of her shoulder without comment before she jogged up the final couple with a force of will she wasn't sure she'd possessed.

The blonde haired man shifted from the shadows and Marea forced a smile in greeting; a gesture that was completely overlooked as he immediately jumped to business. It hadn't been the welcome she'd been hoping for – because she had come to never expect anything – and it stung a little. They were two beneficiaries who had something to gain from this venture going well. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I saw Karl go inside a few minutes ago. No Templars so far...are you ready?"

Hawke bobbed her head in answer, biting her lower lip nervously, before adding, "I didn't see anyone suspicious out here, but let's get this over with; I have a bad feeling about it."

Bethany frowned and shifted from foot to foot suddenly as anxious as her older sister; working for Meeran had done wonders for Marea in a way neither herself nor their mother had liked, and while it left the woman hard headed and with a short fuse it had given her an uncanny ability to tune her senses. And Hawke's gut feelings were never wrong – which meant things were about to get ugly.

"Alright. I'll handle the talking, you watch for Templars."

Without another word Anders turned to the extravagant doors and pushed hard against the smaller entrance for everyday use, sighing in relief as it slowly yielded to his weight before disappearing inside. The blonde's frown deepened a fraction and then with a sigh of her own she reluctantly followed after the man, sending a warning look to the rest of her party.

Marea only had a few things she truly hated; people who ignored the suffering of others, enclosed spaces, the smell of sickly perfume, spiders and Chantries. It wasn't particularly that the buildings were bad (because they were a place of worship) but rather the set out of the Chantries in general; they creaked, even in daylight, and seemed to germinate shadows that the numerous candles lit in clusters around the floor couldn't disperse...then there were the statues who's eyes watched you no matter where you hid. And there, right at the front, was Andraste herself, sword raised and judging you with all the severity of an angry mother; it shocked her that she had once wanted to be like her...it was sad to realise that life had changed her so much.

But now, in the dark, the shadows were thicker than ever and seemed to creep up on you when you weren't looking; it was like a living, breathing thing that was lurking just out of sight waiting for you to drop your guard before it swept you up and dragged you from the human world with no one to hear you scream...

Shuddering, Hawke quietly followed Anders through the nave and up the steps to the second floor shaking her head both physically and mentally to dispel her growing sense of dread. And when the man she assumed was Karl simply stood with his back to them as they approached simply sent her instincts screeching at her to flee; to turn her friends around and march them straight out of the Chantry.

It wasn't until the blonde mage was a couple of feet away from him that Karl spoke, and it was a dead, lifeless voice. "Anders, I know you too well; I knew you would never give up..."

"What's wrong...why are you talking li – "

Oh Maker...They – They made him...

"I was too rebellious, like you; the Templars knew I had to be...made an example of."

Marea's eyes softened and her heart twisted painfully as she stared at the brand of Tranquillity burned into the flesh of Karl's forehead; and for an obscure moment she couldn't help but wonder if it hurt...could a Tranquil feel pain? Or did the Templars brand you before they did the rite, as a sort of cruel taunt at what was to come.

"Maker, please no."

"How else will mages ever master themselves?" the Tranquil continued emotionless, oblivious to the agony his friend was feeling; the agony written all over his face. "You'll understand, Anders..."

The air shifted behind them, it wasn't much, perhaps the just a moment of irregularity in the steady waft of incense, but it was all the warning she needed as Hawke reached up to unsheathe her daggers, Aveline following suit and shrugged her shield onto her arm. Looking between both Karl and the shadows she could finally start making out she frowned; the poor fool had trapped them, and Anders had taken the bait...

"Once the Templars show you how to control yourself...This is the apostate."

The blonde rogue had been about to hiss a warning to the Templars now blocking her way out (she didn't like being trapped, it reminded her too much of the years spent hiding in their house as she played nanny for Bethany who couldn't be trusted to control her powers) but before she could even open her mouth a short, sharp burst of pale blue light erupted from behind her, momentarily casting an eerie glow to the surrounding area.

The bellow of refusal that accompanied the flash had Hawke turning to check the mage was alright just in time to see him drop to his knees, cradling his head and she tentatively stepped forwards, trusting her friends to watch her back. "Anders? Are you al – "

The dark smoke that had started to form around his body ceased after a second or so, leaving the putrid stench of burning flesh and fissures of that same liquid blue light across his body, ablaze beneath his robes and across his skin. It was his eyeshowever that momentarily terrified her; those once compassionate eyes were now full of light, glowing brightly and ever shifting as fire exploded around him.

He was on his feet in an instance; and she wasn't whether or not to turn her blades on the Templars or on him. He was an abomination...he had to be, for that was no mere magic; it made Bethany's more potent spells look like cheap parlour tricks. However she made up her mind the moment his spoke, "You will never take another mage as you took him!"

The tone was foreign and distorted, but the flavour of his voice was infinitely Anders; until he proved himself to be...dangerous to others she would stand by him.

Nodding her head in Aveline's direction she let out a wild battle cry before launching herself into feral attack, her blades slicing through the gaps in their armour, stabbing into the soft flesh behind their knees where their greaves didn't offer their protection and otherwise incapacitating them for her red headed friend to finish off. Bethany and Varric kept their distance, picking off those who sought to flank Hawke and the warrior in perfect synchronization.

With a shriek of pain Marea rolled away from the Hunter who had sneaked behind her and embedded one of his daggers into her left shoulder, easily penetrating the fabric of her shirt and gritted her teeth when her ill-advised manoeuvre made the blade tear through her flesh. Through the sting of tears she saw Aveline, Bethany and Varric each turn to rain bloody fury down on the man but before any of them could so much as move an impossibly large fireball from Anders collided with the Templar, sending him and the other two unfortunate men nearby flying over the balcony to land crushed by the feet of Andraste herself.

She was in too much pain to think on the irony of it long, her good arm already pulling the bandages from her pouch, awkwardly turning to press it against the gaping wound. Her sibling quickly moved to help, using Marea's own dagger to cut away the fabric around the bloody abrasion and cursed her lack of healing knowledge before she apologised quietly when a rough tug jarred the injury, trusting Aveline, Varric and Anders to keep the attention of the Templars on them.

"H-How bad is it, Bethany?" the blonde asked through gritted teeth, though she could see from the younger woman's pale face that it wasn't good and from the rancid smell of burnt hair she bitterly realised that the fireball that had destroyed her foe .

"You should have seen a hit like that coming a mile away."

It was a distraction technique, but a welcome distraction technique.

"Yes, I should have."

The short answer with no sarcasm was proof enough of how much pain her sister was in and Bethany jumped as a large shadow passed over them for a moment, sword extended over their heads before the offending Templar was torn down by a feral Kodi, his vicious snarls and bites as well as the man's dulled screams their only company for a long moment. It didn't take long to dress the wound, but it did take a while for Marea to get to her feet once the fighting was over.

"Who's a good doggy?" she praised quietly as a bloody Kodi padded over to her, his tail wagging even as he whined in concern. "I'm alright, boy, thanks to you."

The Mabari barked happily and licked her good hand; following close after her heels to make sure no more harm came to his mistress.

Shooing her sister away with her uninjured arm the blonde tied the scabbards of her sheathed daggers to her waist and slowly made her way over to a non-glowing Anders and a strangely alert Tranquil.

"I...Anders, what did you do? It's like you bought a piece of the Fade into our world. I had already forgotten what that felt like..."

Raising an eyebrow at Karl Hawke winced and looked round at the mage now shifting anxiously from foot to foot; he didn't look like an abomination anymore...but just because he didn't look like one didn't mean he wasn'tone. "What did you do? Not the Fade part, the angry glowy bit?"

"It's like a gateway to the Fade inside of you, glowing like a beacon."

Hawke had to bite back her somewhat irritable, pain induced snipe about repeating one's self and ignoring her question, but thankfully Anders stopped her from saying anything she'd regret. "I have some...unique circumstances, yes..."

That's it...I'm going to grill his arse when we get back to Darktown...Maybe after a couple of stiff drinks, but I'll get my answers.

"But Karl, what happened? How did they get you?"

"The Templars here are far more vigilant than in Ferelden, they found a letter I was writing you. You cannot imagine it, Anders; all the colour, all the music in the world...gone. I would gladly give up my magic – but this...I'll never be whole again...Please, kill me before I forget again, I don't know how you bought it back but it's fading!"

"Karl, no."

Frowning Marea stepped forward, resting her good hand on the blonde mage's shoulder before shaking her head. "Bethany calls being made Tranquil a fate worse than death, and I know I wouldn't want to live in a world where I cannot feel, laugh or love. If you don't kill him he'll just be used as a puppet; you have to help him."

Ander's shrugged her hand from him a little more vicious than he'd intended, in his Fade ridden state he hadn't seen the full extent of the woman's injuries and she made little show of their severity other than the smallest of winces. "I'm so sorry, Karl...I should have...if I'd – "

"Now! It's fading. I ca – why do you look at me like that?"

The sudden change from desperation to indifference made Hawke's heart twinge again and she turned to offer the blonde some form of privacy, warding away her companions concerns with a look and took a swig of elfroot potion. It would have to do until she got home and could attend to the wound properly. She heard Anders mumble his goodbye and the dull thud as the dagger found the soft flesh of the Tranquil's stomach through the thin robes and closed her eyes to quell the nausea.

Death in battle she could ignore, pass it off as a 'my life or theirs' experience, but to kill in cold blood, even with a mercy blow, still made her want to vomit.

"We should leave before more Templars come."

Marea had been ecstatic when they finally got back to his clinic, her head pounding and her legs shaking at the exertion but she refused to leave and heed her friend's advice until she had her answers.

"So," she said quietly as Anders stopped with his back to them and she leant against the table wearily, the bandages wrapped around the left hand side of her shoulder and chest starting to redden with the bleeding that had started up again halfway down to Darktown. "Is this where you tell me you're an abomination?"

"You're wrong," the mage answered after a moment and looked over his shoulder at her, "But not far wrong...I...This is hard to explain; when I was in Amaranthine I met a spirit of Justice trapped outside of the Fade, we became friends and he recognized the injustice that mages in Thedas suffer..."

The blonde had to stop herself from groaning and raised her good hand to rub at her temples. She was going to keep this short and sweet, and then she could go to sleep. "What does this have to do with your eyes glowing?"

"To...live outside the Fade he needed a host, I offered to help him; we were going to work together to help bring justice to every child ever torn from their mother's arms to be sent to the circle, but...I guess I had too much anger in me. Once we joined he...changed."

Maker this was getting difficult to understand. Why couldn't it have been a black and white answer; yes I am an abomination and you're going to try and kill me, or no, I'm just the gorgeous, kind spirit healer – let me heal your shoulder that looks painful. "So...let me get this straight, you have a spirit of Justice living in your head?"

"It's not like that; he's gone now, he's part of me...It's not like we can have a conversation, I hear his thoughts as my own, not even the greatest scholar could tell where I end and he begins," Anders finished quietly, only now taking the opportunity to look at the vivid white, slowly turning red, bandages and frowned. She hadn't mentioned it...but he could tell from the way she was hunched for support against the table and her Mabari that she was in pain, and yet here she was having a conversation with him and trying to...understand.

He couldn't help but feel his heart tighten. But she was something...

"Don't get me wrong, but that really didn't look like a happy, benevolent spirit to me..." It looked down right pissed off is what it looked like...

"Since when is justice happy? Justice is hard, but my anger; when I see Templars now, things that have always outraged me but could never do anything about, He comes out; and he is no longer my friend Justice, but a force of Vengeance and he has no grasp of mercy."

"Ah...that would explain the look..." she mumbled under her breath.

The sexy, tortured fuck me I'm a rebel mage look...

"Excuse me? What look? Do I really scream 'I'm possessed, stay away?'" he asked irritably and Hawke actually pouted, and then grimaced in pain.

Shaking her head she smiled apologetically and explained. "Irene said she'd never seen you smile, that she thought you'd lost more than most...I can see what she meant is all. Is there...anything I can do?"

His gaze softened and he immediately backed down from his defensive attitude. "You're...the first one I've ever told this, thank you for not running away, my maps are yours as am I if you wish me to join your expedition. I thought I was done with the Grey Wardens, but if you have any need of me until then, I'll be waiting here."

Hawke offered him a wry smile before grunting heavily as she got to her feet, swaying once, then twice before steadying herself – she felt drunk, and not the pleasant drunk either. "Somehow I don't think I could run even if I wanted to," she chuckled and patted Kodi's neck gently as she turned to leave. "But you're free to tell me anything and to come and see me if you need my assistance, I spend a lot of time in the Hanged Man."

"Wait," he said briskly and quickly walked after her, blocking her way out. "Is your sister going to heal you when you get home?"

Marea snorted. "Bethany? Healme? Maker no, she can't cast the simplest of spells to extract a splinter. No, I was going to apply some salve and use the good old method of needle and twine; it's worked wonders in the past."

It was clear from the look on the healer's face that her attempted bravado didn't fool him.

"Sit down. You're not going anywhere."

Kodi growling warningly at her feet, but she brushed her fingers over his ears and with a heavy sigh nodded once, turning to her sister, "Tell mother where I am?"

The brunette nodded and they each said their farewells, Varric and Aveline wishing her a speedy recovery – the latter of whom pinned Anders under a weight glare that told him to be careful with the blonde, and finally left the two alone. For a moment she shifted anxiously, unsure of what to do but the mage gently pushed her down onto one of the canvas beds before crouching down in front of her, his nimble fingers making quick work of the enforced drakeskin corset.

He'd done this before...

"W-What're you doing?" she mumbled groggily and tried to push his hands away with her own.

"I can't see the damage that's been done with all of these clothes, now stop squirming."

The short command had her stiffen immediately and the blonde let Anders slide her corset, gloves and what was left of her butchered shirt (courtesy of Bethany) off her shoulders before he removed the bandages. He sucked in a hissing breath as he gently poked and prodded around the inflamed skin; there was no way she would have been able to sew this up, the woman was insane...Or simply used to looking after herself.

He couldn't help but lower his gaze over the rest of her exposed torso and frowned at the scarring he found there, some had been healed by magic, but the majority had been sewn, some clumsily and others well as if she'd had the help of another...He couldn't help the protective surge that washed through him; he'd seen her fight, knew she could surely kill him in seconds, but the way she blearily blinked at him and at how tiny she really was he couldn't help the emotion. As irrational as it was.

His hands glowed with the soft healing light and gently bathed her in it, supporting her against his chest as she slumped exhaustedly against him, her fingers twisting in the fabric beneath his open robes. It took a good half an hour before he was satisfied that she'd be able to wield her daggers when she woke, perhaps a little stiff, but still able to manoeuvre.

Which left him with the conundrum of what to do with the half naked blonde he was cradling.

Sighing Anders gently scooped her up, collecting the bodice from the floor, (but left the ruined shirt to be trampled underfoot) and relocated her to the somewhat softer bed he used for himself. He, Hawke forgive him, removed her boots and greaves before peeling her breeches from her legs and helped her into one of his much larger shirts; smiling slightly as she mumbled and fought against him before settling against the furs, tucking her hands beneath her chin as she rolled onto her side. Pulling the blankets over her the mage set about closing the clinic for the night, extinguishing the lantern and locking the doors.

It was only then he noticed that his chivalry had cost him his bed.

Maker what he did for a pretty face.

Pulling one of the canvas beds a little closer he divested Marea of one of the two pillows and one of the many blankets before changing himself, mindful to wear some trousers and a nightshirt for her sake at least before he too settled down for the night; taking one long last look at the blonde woman before blowing out the candle.