Chapter Eight

There was nothing, Anders decided, more beautiful than watching Hawke covered in blood, her hair pulled up and knotted at the nape of her neck in a pair of tight grimy breeches and a stained shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, helping in his clinic. He'd been dubious at first – she wasn't a mage, but she'd proven herself to be adept at looking after injuries the old fashioned way, with swabs, poultices and needle and twine when it was needed. They both knew that she only did it to take her mind off of the renovation of the Amell estate and to keep away from her mother but he was grateful for the help none the less.

Many of the people who came to the clinic had minor ailments that Marea could take care of with a gentle smile and a couple of his potions, it took the strain off of him when refugees who were in dire need of his healing bombarded him. It was also helping to save on the lyrium. Children were usually reserved for her and her tender touch as she cooed at them, all maternal smiles and soft words of assurance as she swabbed scrapped knees or helped him set broken arms and legs. On more than one occasion Anders had had to shake his head to clear the images of Hawke as a mother; considering her own mother's behaviour he was a little surprised that she took to infants and children so well. Perhaps it was because of her mother that she was so determined to be kind and loving...Or maybe it was just Hawke.

He didn't allow himself to dwell on thosethoughts for overly long lest he feel the pinpricks in the back of his mind where he could taste the disapproval from his temperamental guest.

As the first frost descended on Kirkwall Marea helped deliver a baby for the first time.

It had been a long day for both of them, one of the few where she'd been able to stay from daybreak to nightfall without someone coming to fetch her, and they'd been clearing up for the day, she bathing and cleaning bandages so they could be used the next day and he cleaning some of the more...unsavoury parts of the clinic. The woman had been all but dragged through the doors; gritting her teeth as her husband half carried her towards Anders.

At first the blonde rogue had wanted to leave, and he was happy to oblige her; he wasn't going to force the woman to stay if she didn't think she could cope with it; she'd mentioned vaguely the horror she'd felt as a child when her mother had been going through labour and he certainly didn't want to bring back any nasty phantoms when she only just seemed to be getting past her grief. However the soon-to-be mother had reached out to grab her wrist, quivering as another contraction shuddered through her body and Anders had taken a few steps forward to gently release Hawke when she shook her head, anxiously chewing her lower lip.

"It's alright," she assured him and pulled the woman's clutching hand up around her shoulders, helping her husband leverage her onto the table. The blonde could hear her father's voice, the details he'd given her when she'd asked him what happened when women gave birth at the impressionable age of twelve; he'd sighed, before detailing the entire cycle of pregnancy. He'd said it was because one day she and Bethany would have children (she couldn't help but grimace bitterly) and that she would need to know what to do when the time came.

Still, she would take the mage's lead; he'd done this more times than he could probably count and the memory of blood stained sheets and her mother's shift burst to the forefront of her mind. She shooed it away with an internal scowl, berating herself for being weak and brushed the woman's hair from her forehead, smiling warmly. Prising the brunette's hand from about her wrist she tenderly pressing both against the large bulge as Anders snapped into action, gathering blankets, water, rags and a well chewed, small wooden oblong. "I'm Marea."

Maker...The poor woman was younger than she was, at least seventeen, if not slightly older, but no more than twenty.

"I-Irowen."

Nodding Hawke smiled again, glancing to her left she saw the her husband worrying his lip and twisting his fingers, and the blonde rubbed small, soothing circles across Irowen's swollen belly. "Everything's going to be alright. This is your first?" she paused and bobbed her head when the brunette nodded, "Try not to worry, deep breaths...Do you want your husband to stay?"

The man stiffened at the question and turned furious eyes on her, opening his mouth as if to argue but Marea sent him a quelling look. "This isn't your decision, if she wants you here then you can stay if not, you will respect her wishes."

After a long moment Irowen shook her head, grimacing as the contractions came more frequently and her husband sighed gruffly before stalking from the clinic to continue his prowling outside. Hawke shifted to assist Anders, who was juggling the bowl of water and blankets, but froze when the brunette gripped her hand urgently, earnest eyes burrowing into hers, "Ya won' leave me, will ya?"

Softening at the vulnerable question Marea shook her head and smoothed her free hand over Irowen's sweaty forehead, "I'll be right here, sweetheart. I just need to help Anders and I'll be right back."

After a moment or so the younger woman slowly released Hawke's wrist and the blonde dashed over to the mage, taking the blankets and rags from him with a nervous smile, depositing them on the table. After a moment she disappeared to the back of the clinic, behind the privacy screen and returning with the pillows from hisbed, much to Anders' disapproval. Wordlessly the pair set to work and she gently propped Irowen up on the cushions as Ander's gently hitched her skirts up.

The brunette clenched her thighs together, shuddering beneath the new contraction and bit her lip, shaking her head before turning to look at Marea."C-Could ya? I – "

Nodding once Hawke smiled nervously and awkwardly shifted around the table to take the mage's place, her face turned to him imploringly and he couldn't help but smile slightly. "I'll walk you through it. You know a little right?"

Anders watched the rogue acknowledge him and he moved to gently take the woman's hand, mumbling quiet instructions to Marea; who, after a little hesitation rolled her sleeves up to her elbows from where they'd slipped and reached between Irowen's thighs. It was a position she never thought she'd be in, even with Isabella as a companion, she never expected to be between a woman's legs.

It was nearly three hours later when the baby's head breached the tight circle of muscle at the appendix of Irowen's sex, all three of them exhausted and longing for a good meal and a warm bed, and a further draining fifteen minutes until the clinic was finally filled with the wailing cries of a newborn infant. Marea wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to sob or laugh for joy as she gently pulled the bawling child from her mother, taking the blanket Anders handed her and wrapping her in its warmth. Removing her dagger from her belt the blonde carefully cut the cord linking the now snuffling baby to Irowen and gently cleaned away the worse of the blood, affectionately brushing the pad of her index finger over the smooth skin of the child's nose; oblivious to the small smile the mage was giving her.

"Hello you silly looking thing," she teased, taking in the shock of dark brown hair, just like her mother's...Just like Bethany and Carver's had been. Wearing a melancholy smile she moved round the table to place the child in Irowen's arms, watching silently as Anders moved away to collect the poor man from outside, "She's beautiful, Irowen."

There was a long moment where the brunette simply stared at her child in silent awe, her stocky husband jogging to her side before she smiled. "She is...isn' she...She needs a beau'iful name too," Irowen paused before lifting her eyes to Hawke, exultant through her exhaustion. "Wha' would youcall her?"

"Me?" Marea stood taken aback at the question, looking wild eyed in the mage's direction only to receive a small smirk – as if he'd dealt with this before...Probably had too...Bastard. She tugged the edge of the blanket down and surveyed the cooing creature's soft features, unable to bite back the bittersweet smile.

"Bethany," she said finally. "I think Bethany."

Irowen and her husband looked at each other for a moment before smiling and nodded in her direction. "Bethany...Yes, it sui's her, I think... We - We won' stay much longer...I wanna sleep in ma own bed and – "

"Get her away from the dirt," Anders cut across her with a small nod, pressing a small vial into Irowen's husband's hands gesturing vaguely in the woman's direction, "We understand. You will be alright getting home? The potion should perk her up a little, help her regain her strength. If there's anything you need the doors will always be open."

The stocky man acknowledged the mage's question and generosity with a flick of his wrist and gently eased his wife from the table, careful to support her as she took the bottle from him. Her expression turned sour at the taste but she was otherwise in high spirits as she leant over to kiss Marea's cheek, her thanks flowing as freely as her tears before she was swept from the clinic. It was only then that Hawke and Anders slumped against the table.

And then she started laughing. It was only soft at first; a few errant giggles but before Anders knew it the blonde next to him was laughing long and hard, clutching the edge of the table for purchase.

"Have you finally lost your wits?"

Grinning she turned her jubilant eyes on him and he found himself returning the smile before he could stop himself; she shook her head, swallowing thickly before looking down at her blood slick hands. For once she didn't cringe from the gore, but stared down with a sort of reverent awe, this wasn't the blood of a dead man or woman; it was the blood of life, something shehad been a part of. It was...glorious...knowing that she'd helped bring someone into the world instead of forcing them to leave it prematurely.

Rubbing them clean on her breeches the blonde shook her head, "No, it's just...I bought a baby into the world, Anders...Its – oh Maker I can't even begin to explain how it makes me feel...Now I know why you do this, there's a...a beauty in healing and giving life – I think I always knew that but it's like...looking into the face of the Maker himself. Is that – Is it blasphemous to think that?"

Anders chuckled and shook his head, smirking at her. He couldn't help his wandering thoughts now, as she sat there beaming, radiant and...beautiful; watching her soothing that woman, helping her and finally holding that child had been – well, quite the sight, and one he was sure he wouldn't be able to shuck for a very long time. "I understand completely, and if it's blasphemous then let us be damned together..."

He paused before adding, "Though you owe me new pillows, I won't be able to sleep without thinking of a grunting woman in labour."

The resulting sly grin took him by surprise for a moment as Hawke got to her feet, dipping her fingers in the bowl to clean off the worse of the blood. "I shouldn't think you sleep without thinking of grunting women in general, Anders."

Both of them seemed a little surprised by her forward, shameless flirt because she dipped her head slightly, the faintest blush trailing up her neck to tinge her ears and he could only sit for a moment and stare at her. How in the Maker's name could she go from a brazen tease in one moment, and then a blushing Chantry Sister in the next? It was infuriating...and exciting. When he finally regained his senses he chuckled darkly and pushed himself up and away from the table to stand behind her, wrapping his arms about her shoulder so he could clean his own hands. "Only you."

He could feel the heat burning from her neck and face as he dipped his head a little lower, brushing his nose against the small, pale expanse of skin her collar allowed him access to, closing his eyes as he inhaled. She smelt of rosewater, something he knew she bathed her hair in; it was simple, fresh and above all else clean, something Hawke valued over everything else. There were undertones, of course, the smell of leather her harness impressed into her skin, the tangy, heady scent of the Antivan spices she sometimes used to cook with.

Neither of them had broken the impasse they'd fallen into since they'd awkwardly professed their interest in each other; Anders because of his respect for her boundaries and Marea...well seemingly because she enjoyed the new learning curve the gentle, friendly teasing had bought. It drove him insanewhile she just went about her life as though she was greatly unchanged by the whole experience. On most nights he'd bury his face into his pillow to inhale that tantalizing scent, biting the fabric so his moans and grunts didn't travel the expanse of Darktown as he stroked and pumped his way to completion. Never the less the ache was still there, simmering away.

Seconds ticked by and the tension didn't leave her shoulders, though when he shifted back a fraction Hawke slowly turned to face him, her expression unreadable. He half expected her to launch into a long sorry speech about how she wasn't ready for such commitment, and he would have been lying if he didn't find the idea repulsive and demeaning; however, the blonde simply smiled at him and pressed a gentle kiss to his chin before ducking out of his embrace to disappear behind the privacy screen.

"I'll see you in the morning, Anders."

Sighing the mage passed his hand over his face and slouched against the table, wondering how he got himself into these situations before moving to lock the doors and extinguish the lanterns.

Weeks turned into months in much the same way. And before Anders could blink his twenty eighth winter was upon him; he'd managed to dodge the blonde's attentions and his name day came and went without being mentioned, he utterly refused to mention his age around Hawke...But none the less the jibes she made about his 'old bones' didn't subside. It was infuriating.

Five days before Midwinter Anders opened the clinic doors to the most bewildering of sights. A basket full of long, gnarled holly and, though considerably less, mistletoe placed a few feet away, Merrill sat next to it humming to herself and chatting easily to Hawke as she weaved the plants together. Marea, to his horror, was balanced on Kodi's back, bare foot, the hound barely seeming bothered by her weight as she hung the already made twine of holly and mistletoe over the door.

Startled by the dim light streaming from the clinic the woman yelped and wheeled her arms desperately as she tried to regain her balance; on instinct the mage reached out to steady her, his hand hooked in her belt. After a moment she stabled herself and offered him a cheery smile as she finished her task and hopped off of the Mabari's back, patting his head.

"Do I even want to know what you're doing?" he asked grumpily, rubbing his temples with one hand. Justice had been nothing less than a dull throb over the last four days, since he'd done the cowardly thing and ran from a group of Templars. Four days of having your own mind turned against you with no sleep...

Pouting, Marea put her hands on her hips, disgruntled by his lack of spirit and poked him in the chest, "Look here you, just because you don't care that it's Midwinter soon it doesn't mean everyone else doesn't. It's not fair to deny your patients a little festive cheer."

Anders desperately tried to hold her gaze with an unwavering glower of his own, but eventually he sighed and nodded. Maker why couldn't he say no to her when she pouted at him...it should be banned. Hawke should never be able to use her pout to get her own way; at least not on him...Everyone else was fair game, he was intrigued to see what Sebastian would do if she ever decided to turn her slowly honing charm on the unsuspecting man. He smiled at the thought, placated for now, before glancing over at Merrill.

"Elgar'nan! Ow!"

Moving away from Anders, Hawke padded over to the elf, her feet dirtying as she walked, before crouching to take the woman's hand. Hissing under her breath the blonde shook her head with a small smile, "Maker, Merrill, you're more of a disaster than I am."

"Impossible."

Anders chuckled quietly as Marea turned to poke her tongue out at him and reached into one of her pouches so she could bind the elf's bleeding fingers. After five minutes or so both blonde and brunette sat back to admire her handy work and Merrill gave her a blinding smile. "Thank you, Hawke. I'm finished by the way; you can set it up on the other door."

Nodding Hawke hopped up, pulling the spiky wreath up with her as she did before bouncing back to Anders, who had taken to leaning against the doorframe to watch them. She smiled slyly at him before jerking her head, "Mind giving me a boost?"

For a moment or so the mage didn't move the mischievous glint in her eyes more than enough to give him pause, but he finally nodded. Cupping his hands he let her test his grip before she placed her foot fully into the cradle and he hoisted her bodily up so she could hang the wreath over his door...and gave her ample view of her much appreciated backside. Swallowing thickly Anders glanced up at the blonde his eyebrows shooting up when he noticed the suggestive way she was looking at him; suppressing the urge to swat her flank in punishment he helped her down.

Blast you, you infernal little minx!

"Thank you," she said sincerely and her eyes flickered up to the garland above their heads, grinning deviously.

Curious he tilted his head back to see what she was so enamoured by but found his attention diverted suddenly when her soft lips pressed against his. It was a chaste kiss, and fleeting by any standards – but it had him grinning like a fool anyhow.

"Mistletoe," Hawke mumbled by way of explanation and Anders had to bite back his retort that he didn't care why she had done it, only that she did it again.

However she didn't and simply gestured for him to follow her down the steps, "Come on. Me and Merrill need help getting the tree up the stairs, I just hope no one's run off with it."

Anders frowned as he walked after Hawke, mumbling under his breath. "What do you mean tree. You're notputting a tree in the clinic..."

"Are people prone to stealing trees then? Seems a rather odd thing to do...There are plenty of other trees outside Kirkwall."

Sighing the blonde shook her head and grinned sheepishly in Anders direction before turning back to the elf, "Because they'll want to burn it, Merrill, it gets cold down here during winter."

"Burn it? But it's a Winter Solstice tree...It's not for burning, it's all sappy it would make an awful lot of smoke..."

Rolling her eyes Marea hopped down the last few steps, giggling as Kodi licked her hand roughly and she ran her fingers through his thick fur, rubbing his ears affectionately. Anders never thought to be jealous of a dog before...but here he was, envious of a Mabari...

Maker what are you doing to me, Hawke?

Life carried on in a similar fashion, Anders continued to try and resist the near overwhelming tidal wave that was Hawkeand she continued to make it harder and harder for him to deny her with each passing day. Marea celebrated her twenty fourth name day, and, to his horror, Anders was left looking forward to his thirty first winter in a few months time; it terrified him...even if he hid it remarkably well from the blonde haired rogue and their tight knit circle of friends.

Summer Solstice came, and then another winter, an extravagant affair in the Amell estate and another year was through. Another passed with surprising ease and at the dawn of their next her simple existence of teasing and enjoying her time with her friends and companions was shattered.

For the second time in her life Hawke felt the bitter pressure of responsibility. Only this time it wasn't the responsibility of looking after her family and defending her sister, it was the responsibility of keeping a city from tearing itself apart. Terrified citizens fighting against the pull of the 'heretical giants'.

She didn't complain – it wasn't in her nature, but those closest to her, the few she allowed to see her weakness for what it was, knew it was only a matter of time before it got to her...It was only a matter of time before she couldn't shoulder the duty anymore and collapsed – or made a mistake.

And in a dingy section of Kirkwall's Lowtown filled with vomit, piss and deleterious poison, she finally did.

Andraste's flaming arse she couldn't quite believe she was about to do this.

The noxious gas polluting the air in the square sent her heart racing in her chest as she, Anders, Fenris and Aveline silently stalked down the steps, the guard's warning ringing in their ears as they went. He'd been adept in his description of the stench, it didstink of rust and throw up and Hawke looked around the empty square cautiously before descending into the mist. The nausea hit her first.

Wave after wave of sickness washed over her senses and for a long moment she leant over her knees, dry retching and coughing. The others were a little better off, Aveline and Fenris merely swaying on their feet and Anders, although pale, rested a glowing hand at her back, easing the queasiness. Then came fear; as much as she trusted her companions if what the Arishok said was true she was unsure if they would turn on her or each other...or perhaps she was the one going mad...

Deciding not to dwell on it, Marea brushed Anders' hand from her back before striding hip deep into the toxic fumes, forcing back the urge to cough and splutter. Without a word she pressed her arms against her mouth and jogged further into the square, bellowing over her shoulder, "We need to shut the barrels! Try and find something to close them!"

The small group spread out slightly, trying to breathe as little of the gas as possible as they worked. It was Fenris who found the latch first and Hawke sprinted over to him at his shout of her name; together the pair managed to wrangle one of the barrels shut, stopping the fumes from flowing from within. Anders watched in silent wrath as the blonde smiled gratefully at the elf and patted his shoulder and as Fenris dipped his head in acceptance, those carefully guarded eyes following her as she ran to give instructions to Aveline.

Perhaps it was the poison talking – but he would have liked nothing more than to blast the elf off of the face of Thedas. Fenris had noticed the mage glaring at him and for a moment was torn between smirking in the man's direction or glowering back; he chose the latter, his stance shifting into a defensive position.

"We've got company!"

The warning cry forced the pair to defend themselves and the elf darted away quicker than any man had any right to be to help stem the wave of enemies trying to flood Aveline and Hawke. The blonde danced and parried her way towards the mage, defending his flank when anyone got too near before sprinting off to sink her blades into the exposed throat of an archer.

Anders swayed slightly on the spot, the battle having forced him to take more frequent, larger gulps of air and he wearily tugged the point of his staff from the ground, sliding it into position on his back. Marea's panicked cry had him bolting to her side in seconds only to see her crouched over that bloody elf who seemed to be intent on vomiting his liver up.

Let him... he thought spitefully, Hope he chokes, self-righteous bastard.

"Anders, don't just stand there heal him. Start with the glowy and stop him from being sick."

Hawke could see the reluctance in his gaze and pushed herself to her feet to glare at him, taking a step forward until he was pinned and quailing marginally under her look. At least he had the decency to look ashamed...a little. "Now."

He didn't waste any more time and channelling his magic he placed his hand on the man's back, gritting his teeth. The things he did for her. He would have gladly put the elf out of his misery and if he kept cursing him quietly in Arcanum he still would. Eventually he pulled away and Fenris pushed himself to his feet, unsteadily which prompted Hawke to help, which sent Anders' teeth grinding once more.

"I need everyone to fan out and find a latch, we'll try and get as many of these barrels locked down before more crazies come and ruin the party, alright?" Marea's voice was firm despite her attempts of light heartedness and the group could tell she was starting to buckle under the strain of what they were doing. She wanted them out and rightly so.

They each bobbed their heads before sprinting off to do as she said, Marea careful to stay close to Aveline in case they had anymore unwanted visitors and Anders keeping as far away from Fenris as was feasibly possible while following orders. He'd just bent down to retrieve the latch he'd located from the ground when he felt a knee in the crook of his lower back pushing him roughly into the dirt. The mage reached round to grip his staff to fight off his unseen assailer when a foot kicked his hand away, planting on his back and pushing the air out of him.

"Stay away from her, Mage."

"F-Fenris? Get the fuck off me you deranged – "

The lyrium infused elf growled, actually growled, under his breath and pressed his ribs a little harder into the ground, the latch digging into his stomach uncomfortably. "I've seen the way you watch her, and she might be too naive to see the pain you'll cause her but I am not. You will stay away from her, or you'll find yourself missing a heart. And I'd like to see you heal that."

With a battle cry Anders lashed out with a strength he hadn't even realised he'd possessed, taking Fenris by surprise and sending them both to the ground, wrestling angrily. They both ignored the two shouts and his hands burst into flame as the lyrium in the elf's body exploded into life, however before either of them could find purchase against each other Anders was pulled up and away from him in one fluid movement. Fenris was equally as restrained when he tried to jump to his feet and follow by Marea who had her hands planted firmly on his chest.

"Stop it! Both of you! I know you hate each other, but I won't let you turn on one another because the poison's heightening it. We are all reasonable adults, not children bickering in the Chantry courtyard," she hissed, struggling to keep the elf from brushing her aside. As Fenris snarled and clenched his teeth spitting something at the mage in Arcanum the blonde bought her hand across his cheek and without thinking he retaliated. It only seemed to be when the man saw blood seeping through her fingers clutching her jaw that he came to his senses.

Anders on the other hand was only incensed at the injury and struggled all the more vehemently against Aveline and her holding grasp. He ground his teeth when Marea gave the elf a small smile and patted his forearm at his mumbled apology; it wasn't until she set her unnerving green eyes on him that he froze. At a small gesture from Hawke Aveline silently, if not reluctantly, released the mage and retrieved the latch, jogging to shut the final barrel.

"He struck you."

Hawke's gaze softened and she inclined her head, removing her hand so he could see and heal the four slits across her jaw where Fenris' gauntlets had cut her. "That he did, but he won't do it again."

The elf grumbled his agreement and watched, shamefaced, as Anders brushed his glowing fingers across the scratches. The mage was still shaking in anger, more than ready to defend her honour (and Maker when had he become so chivalrous?) but at the pointed look she sent his way he forced himself to calm, the air around them clearing slightly without the barrels pumping out their noxious wares.

All four of them stiffened when they heard the heavy pounding of boots on stone and Hawke immediately pulled away from Anders healing touch, the incisions only half scabbed over, still pink around the edges as she stalked, followed by the others, towards the foot of the stairs. Stopping a few feet short she looked up at the short, female elf glaring down at them. Holding her hands up the blonde relaxed her posture, "Easy...We're only trying to figure out what's going on."

The elf sneered and leant over the wall, squinting as if to get a good look at her, "Is that...Serah Hawke...You have enemies...I'm glad it's you really. These poor people...You are a much better target."

Had the situation not been so tense Anders would have laughed when Marea pinched the bridge of her nose, grumbling under her breath, "Hello, lunatic." After a moment however she glowered up at the elf, her previous notion that the woman was just trying to escape apparently over as she asked, nonchalantly, "Care to tell me which particular brand of crazy you are? There are so many I get confused."

"Hawke..."

Marea waved off Aveline's worries and crossed her arms irritably, cocking her hip. It was a stance they were all familiar with, and it never meant good things.

"The Qunari take my people! My siblings forget their culture and then run to the Qun for purpose! We're losing them twice! So, I get some help from your people. We'll take the Qunari thunder, make some accidents and let them take the blame...Make them hated...But this...this is all wrong," the elf woman shifted in distress, pacing behind the wall like a caged tiger.

"It's a poison," the blonde hissed and snorted angrily, "What did you expect would happen. People die from it not just get sick!"

It was then they realised that the woman had been hit by her own toxin, she was babbling, ignoring whatever Hawke said as if she hadn't spoken. The threat at the end of her tirade had them tighten together however, she and Anders shifting behind Aveline and Fenris, their issues forgotten for the moment in the face of danger. More mercenaries flooded the streets and the four had no choice but to spread out under the pressure, leaving both Anders and Hawke open to larger enemies.

As Marea dipped into the shadows a second time to evade the deranged elf Anders sent a fireball skirting past the two warriors who were tearing down the remaining mercenaries. He was so focused on destroying the last few men so Aveline and Fenris could help Hawke with the woman stalking her the surprised shriek of pain jarred his senses.

There, just to his right was that bitch, sword slick with blood with Marea clutching her gut, the enforced corset sliced through as if it were butter. The blonde managed to weakly parry a few more blows before her legs gave way beneath her and she attempted to shuffled back and away. That gore covered blade lifted high as if to drive down to finish the job but the elf never got that far, knocked back suddenly by the sheer force of the rock fist that collided with her side.

"Fenris! Aveline!"

Both warriors were already tearing towards Hawke and her assailant and bore down on the elf with all the fury of the Maker himself, but Anders was too busy tearing the remainder of the blonde's clothes from her body. His heart thudded against his chest. She was pale, far too pale and the blood was flowing quicker than he knew how to stem. Her eyes were closed and her chest barely moved with the effort it took to fill her lungs with air.

"No! Please don't be dead. Please!"

Expressive green eyes, shimmering with agony cracked open to regard him as gentle hands helped her from her propped position against the wall, careful not to jostle her too much. She relaxed as he rested her flat against the cold ground and she suppressed a shiver, grimacing at him in a half smile. "N-Not yet..."

"Don't try to talk...Just focus on me, don't close your eyes you – "

"Might not wake up," she finished with a rasp and gritted her teeth as he tenderly prodded at the soft skin of her belly, his hands aflame with his magic.

He could feel Justice floating just behind the haze of panic and anger, eager to strike out at the prone form of the elf but equally as confused over the need to do so. At any other point Anders would have been very smug that the spirit was actually bewildered by the human emotions he couldn't begin to fathom, but his mind was set on keeping Hawke alive and breathing.

It didn't help when he had Fenris breathing down his neck like an untrained Mabari. "Stand somewhere else, elf," he ground out quietly, glancing over his shoulder.

"Not likely, mage. I don't trust yo – "

"I'm so glad that my bleeding to death hasn't ruined your friendship," Marea teased hoarsely as Anders rummaged in her pouch to retrieve the bandages he knew she kept there. "I was worried for a moment. I could feel the love."

To their surprise the elf gave a bark of laughter and shook his head, half a smile on his lips. "And I am glad that your brush with death hasn't ruined your sense of humour, Hawke."

The woman gave him a weak smile and patted Anders shaking hands as he finished binding the mostly healed wound. He frowned, ready to launch into a long rant about how she should be more careful, but she silenced him before he could begin by pressing a bloody finger to his lips, "Shh, Anders...You can shout at me later, right now I'd like to go home, clean up and go to bed...You're free to stay and keep an eye on me if you like, but I refuse to stay in that blasted clinic again."

Anders gave the blonde a wry smile and shook his head, "You are by far the most...stubborn woman I have ever met."

"Or likely to ever meet again," she chuckled before glancing down at her bare torso, the hint of a blush, stark against her otherwise ashen face, tinting her cheeks. "Where are my clothes?"

The mage had the decency to look shamed by his actions, even as he leered at her, and rubbed the back of his neck, "I had to cut them away when I was healing you."

Hawke pouted and Anders cringed, feeling even worse than he had before undoing the buckles on his much larger coat and shrugged out of it. Wrapping it around her shoulders her helped her slid her arms into the sleeves and watched her bite her lip before looking between her companions with a small smile. "Just another day, huh? Now, who's going to carry me home?"

While Anders and Fenris glowered at each other, trying to solve the dilemma through a game of wills Aveline sighed and scooped the smaller woman up with a cluck of her tongue. "You're a little tease, Marea," she said fondly, striding ahead of the two simmering males.

"I know," she giggled tiredly, resting her head against the uncomfortable plating across the red head's chest. "It's fun, no?"