Looking into Marian Hawke's face was like staring directly into the sun. Her impossibly blue eyes were piercing and intense, and she had a vital, crackling energy around her that spoke of someone used to taking quick and decisive action. When Selise had descended the stairs at Anders' side, Hawke had rushed forward and scooped up Selise's hand in both of hers, holding it warmly as she introduced herself and earnestly thanked her for watching out for her friend. Selise immediately softened and went embarrassingly mute, feeling too awe struck at meeting the Hero of all the stories to conjure up any words that might be worthy of her. Of course Anders was in love with her, she thought. Selise felt a little bit in love herself. Who wouldn't be?

Anders and Hawke had an easy, affectionate rapport and they spoke of many things that Selise didn't understand, inside stories belonging to two old friends that made it seem as though there had never been any distance between them at all. Anders even looked different around her. He was revitalized and beaming, and seemed lighter and quicker on his feet. Selise was glad to see it, even though she again felt that little twinge of concern about what might happen to him after Hawke inevitably left. Would this energy, this joy he was infused with now continue to carry on after her departure? Or might it leave him crashing back down into himself again? Selise sighed, feeling nervous. She had no way to know what would happen, but knew whatever did, she would be there. She had been assigned as Anders' Keeper, and in Selise's mind that title was beginning to take on a much bigger meaning than just the glorified spy and damage control that the Inquisition had intended.

Eventually Hawke asked Anders to give her and Selise a minute to speak privately, and Hawke hooked her arm into Selise's, walking her over to a ledge that looked down into the courtyard.

"How is everyone treating him?" Hawke asked Selise as soon as Anders was out of earshot.

"There are only a handful of us who even know about him. But outside of me and Varric… I only know how he looks after their meetings and it does not look good."

"It's interesting though, encouraging even, that they would assign a sympathetic mage to be his guard." she observed.

"I'm not sure they consider me sympathetic. Or at least they didn't at first."

"But you are looking out for him?" said Hawke, her icy gaze piercing through her.

"I am now, yes."

"Good. He is surrounded by enemies everywhere he goes. He needs a good person on his side."

"They are considering sending him away. I got the impression it might be just a matter of time before they do. They are afraid that he is unstable and dangerous." Selise said.

"That… makes sense. He is a sensitive and complicated man. He carries great burdens and they can get the best of him sometimes," Hawke sighed heavily, "but you don't agree with them?"

"I don't think he wants to hurt any body, no."

"Anders never wants to hurt any body. But that hasn't stopped him before," Hawke said sadly.

Selise's mind was drawn back to the scar on Anders' neck. 'A man did that to stop me from hurting someone I loved,' he had said.

Hawke shifted on her feet and looked down into the courtyard with a worried expression. Selise watched her gravely, feeling herself prickle in the same way she had in the meeting with Leliana. She had to admit she did not know Anders well, and Hawke did, or at least she used to. Obviously it would be foolish to disregard Hawke's concerns. But Selise agreed with one point: Anders needed someone who was actually fully on his side.

"Have they mentioned where they might send him?"

"No. But where ever it may be, it means he would be at the mercy of whoever receives him. That could go all sorts of ways. I don't like it.".

"I don't either. If he decides to run, contact me first. I might have somewhere safe he can go," Hawke said. Selise looked down at her fidgeting hands. She had never considered the possibility of him running before that moment. It sent an anxious chill through her.

"Do you think he would even tell you if he was going to run?" Hawke asked then.

"I honestly don't know," answered Selise, "you would probably be in a better position to know that."

She inhaled a worried breath. "Well the situation is different, but if what I knew of him in Kirkwall is any indication, there is a good chance that he will leave you in the dark in order to protect you," she said softly, "But he also might need you. From what little he was able to tell me, it does sound like the Inquisition got one thing right in assigning you to him."

"I am hoping, perhaps foolishly, that that his running will not be necessary. If I can find him a way to be useful here I think I might be able to convince them to keep him on. He does seem to like it here, as long as the advisers stay away."

"I hope that's true."

Hawke then turned to appraise Selise's face seriously.

"If you take good care of him, and you ensure he doesn't hurt anyone, I will consider it a personal favor. And will forever be in your debt," she said. "But I will kill anyone who hurts him. And that includes you." Hawke stared into Selise's eyes. There was no anger there, no vitriol. Just a simple warning. It would have been bone-chilling to any reasonable person, but Selise was surprised to find that she wasn't afraid.

"If anyone tries to hurt him, I will kill them myself," she answered calmly.

Hawke held her gaze for several seconds, and then her lips curled into an approving smile. She turned back to look into the empty, green courtyard.

"He tells me you can stop Justice."

"Apparently so," Selise answered. "But it has only been tested once."

"If that is true, then I can't imagine a better companion for him. I hope that it is."

Selise felt the ice that had gathered in her heart begin to thaw, warming her from the inside out.

"I wish you luck. I think you're going to need it," Hawke said as she turned her and gave her hand a squeeze. "I should go say goodbye to Anders. Varric should be here soon. We are to ride out for a rendezvous with the Inquisitor as soon as possible," she said.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So what did you two talk about?" Anders asked as they walked leisurely down the battlements back toward the Great Hall. The patrols were in the middle of changing shifts, and it was dinner time, so most of the residents would be inside filling their plates.

"You, of course,"answered Selise.

"Ah, yes. Did she threaten to kill you if you hurt me?" Anders' asked amusedly.

"Yes actually," Selise answered.

"Yep, that's Marian. She's a fierce one."

"I can see why you love her."

"Loved," he said, emphasizing the d. "A part of me will always, of course. But she made a smart decision in choosing someone else instead of me. She's been much happier than she would have been otherwise."

Selise didn't know enough to argue with that, so she settled for flashing him a sympathetic look. But she felt a curious lightness overcome her at the words. She suppressed a small smile and stepped quietly along side him, beginning to feel a little bit like she was floating.

She felt calmer since talking to Hawke, and yet more confused than ever. What if she woke up one morning to find that Anders had fled in the night? Her clairvoyance didn't always pick up on everything, and she knew better than to rely on it 100%. Things that were done on pure, momentarily impulse rarely had much time to make it to her in advance, and rarely at all while she was sleeping. What would Leliana and Fiona have to say if he escaped right out from under her? And even worse than that, what was she to do with herself in his absence? She would be left wondering, worrying, regretting… She would be left with very many feelings that had made themselves known recently, some of which were completely new to her.

The sense of lightness disappeared as she felt herself getting dragged down by all the different ways that things could go once the Inquisitor returned. She wasn't sure she liked any of the roads ahead that meant anything other than just being here, with him. Would it be too much to ask that things just stay the way that they are for a little bit longer? Minus the depressing presence of the advisers?

"Do you think you might want to stay here in Skyhold?" she asked him eventually. "Or would you want to eventually move on?"

She watched as he looked down at the ground and considered his words.

"You did say once that you had plans here..." she continued, "but after that, then what?"

She paused, considering the possibilities. He had said in that conversation that he wasn't planning on hurting anyone, and she believed him, even despite Hawke's veiled warnings.

"I don't know Selise," he answered quietly.

"You still haven't told them? Leliana and Fiona?" he asked as he turned his brown eyes toward her.

"No. I wouldn't know what to tell," she sighed. "And I have no desire to encourage their suspicion."

"Even if they have reason to be?" Anders asked.

"You said you weren't planning on hurting anyone," she reminded him.

"Yes. And that is true," he said quietly.

"Well. I believe that."

He gave a soft little laugh and shook his head.

"Are you saying that you… trust me?" he asked tentatively.

She sighed, feeling the fluttering in her stomach again. It only increased when she glanced up into his waiting eyes.

"Something like that, I guess."

"Well that means a lot, coming from a clairvoyant," he smirked.

"For some reason," he added softly, "I find myself trusting you too."

"That also means a lot, coming from a revolutionary," she answered.

"You… you don't think I'm a monster, then? For what I've done?" he asked, his voice coming in a raspy croak.

"Something had to force a change. It was never going to be peaceful," she said. "I have always thought that."

His eyes got dark and his little half smile disappeared, turning into something else entirely, something she couldn't quite read. All she knew was that whatever it was, whatever it meant, it was flooding her with a million different thrilling sensations, including an acute awareness of his proximity, and making it incredibly hard for her to breathe. And that it was enough to drown out any remaining protestations of maintaining a professional distance from him.

The look they shared grew to an intensity that caused Selise to break her eyes away. She surveyed the path ahead of them, making sure they were still clear of any obstacles. After a few more of their quiet, unhurried steps, she felt the backs of his fingers brush gently against hers, reaching backward to caress her skin. She relaxed her hand and let her own trembling fingers interlace gently between his. She suddenly became acutely aware of how her heart had started racing. She took a deep breath and pressed down the smile that wanted to creep across her face.

The sky had turned from the gold of early evening, to a vibrant orange and purple. They were getting closer to the main building of Skyhold, and she knew that whatever cushion of time they'd had due to the changing of the guard was ending. Any minute now the new shift of soldiers would be making their way through the battlement paths, on the lookout for any conflict needing mediation, or resident requiring help. She grasped his hand fully into hers and urged him to walk a little faster. Before they reached the end of the battlement path a man emerged unexpectedly from a staircase just ahead of them.

The hairs on her arm stood on end and she saw the scene unfold in her mind at the exact time it happened before her. The man ahead of them saw Anders first, and his face screwed up in an expression of recognition, and then Selise heard the metal grinding of a sword being drawn. Anders instinctively jumped ahead of her, attempting to put himself between them.

"I knew it was you. I suspected it was you when we was bringing you across the mountains" the man snarled to Anders. It was one of the guards that had ridden in with him when they first arrived at Skyhold. "Got yourself a nice little piece of ass already, too," he said as he flicked his eyes over to Selise. She felt Anders tense, the vibration of magic building inside him.

Anders let out a sound sort of like a growl he lowered himself into a fighting stance.

"No," she hissed as she pulled at his leather coat from behind, but he gave no response. Anders' hair blew back as a blinding ball of energy manifested itself over an outstretched hand, and at the same time, the man swung a shield from his back into position and took his first advancing step.

In her mind she saw a loud, violent battle happening that would surely get the attention of everyone nearby. She couldn't allow that, she realized frantically, and in a second of heartstopping panic, she sent strong bolts of Sleep at both of the men. The energy wave left in a percussive burst and both of their bodies lurched when it connected. The man's sword fell out of his hand and hit the stone pathway with a loud clang, and Anders' palm went dark, the hum of magic receding.

She was breathless for a second, her heart ringing in her ears as she waited. Both men remained upright, but were as still as death. And then as if in slow motion, the two men's knees began to buckle and they both slid down to the ground, landing in crumpled, unconscious piles.

Shit, she thought as she stood there, letting out the breath she'd been holding. She saw in her mind that the soldiers were climbing the stairs in the guard tower, just steps away from emerging out onto the battlements.

The man couldn't live. He knew who Anders was, and when he woke he would remember, and he would tell. Steeling herself for what had to be done, she walked over to the body of the unfamiliar man. She knelt down and lay her hand on the bare flesh of his neck, drawing out the energy of life that pulsed within him. His lifeforce dissipated into the air around her and she waited there, feeling the pulsations slow and weaken, the breath in him steadily ebbing away. When the lowest threshold of energy required for life was reached, she felt the silent reverberations of all the organs in his body beginning to fail. Finally it was done, and she stood to look down upon his lifeless body with horror. The last time she had done that was at the urging of her father. She felt the bile rising in the back of her throat, her mouth filling with saliva in preparation to vomit. But there was not time to think about it, or get sick, or to feel sorry.

The sword. Without the sword, his death might just look like some natural failure of his health. But he had drawn it, indicating he had recognized some kind of external threat. She should try to sheath it, she thought, as she frantically began pushing on his heavy corpse, trying to roll his body to give her access to to the sheath. But it was fully under him, its length sticking out at a perpendicular angle, preventing him from being fully turned over. She kicked at it to try to slide it to a different position, but it only moved by a few inches. She conjured up all her strength for a final push, and when it still didn't roll him, she stood to think. There was still Anders to consider, and her time was swiftly running out. He too was unconscious, but she had to get him out of there. She looked ahead to Skyhold, the outer wall of which was only several yards away now.

Not knowing what else to do, she threw the sword over the wall of the battlements. Luckily they were right at the rear corner of Skyhold and the battlements overlooked the outer wall, so that the sword should be falling down into an icy valley at that moment.

Selise rushed over to Anders, who was breathing deeply but completely gone, lost in a sleep as deep as a coma. She saw in a flash that there were soldiers on the battlements now, and any moment one of them would be turning a corner to come down the long pathway behind them. They would see them long before they were within range for her to cast a spell. She could sprint down the pathway and hope to catch them by surprise, and maybe put them to sleep too, but by the time she returned, there would be others, coming from different directions.

No, the easiest thing to do would be to try to get Anders to that door, and quickly.

She shoved her hands under his arms and tried to hoist him up enough to be dragged. He was heavy, but she felt the adrenaline pulsing through her, forcing her body to work beyond its normal limits of strength. With each desperate step propelling them forward she made surprising promise, pulling him past the man, past the edge of the Skyhold wall, and up to the door. She tried the knob, but it stuck. The panic rose in her again, and she rattled the knob angrily, yanking on it repeatedly with all her strength. After one particularly enraged tug, the door flew open, causing her to almost lose her balance and fall back. It was some kind of storage room, and a very small one. There wasn't even room for Anders to lie down in it.

But there was no choice. She hoisted him back up into her arms and swung him around so she could walk him inside backwards. She yanked hard until he was as far in as she could get him, and then lowered his back against the furthest wall. She tried to step off to the side of him, but there was barely room. And there was a barrel and several burlap sacks already cluttering up the corner. She crouched and pulled each of his knees to bend his legs and bring them fully inside the closet. Finally he was in and she stood again to close the door. But she paused for a second. Maybe she could throw the man's body over the battlement wall. Then no one would ever know anything. He was heavier than Anders, but she had the aid of adrenaline at the moment. She peeked out the door down the long pathway, and saw that there was already a soldier in full sprint, advancing from the far side of the path toward the body.

She pulled her head back in, and closed the door as quickly and quietly as she could. The little closet fell dark, with only the small sliver of dim light coming from the open gap at the base of the door.

She stood there for a moment with her heart up in her throat and listened for the sounds of the soldier approaching the dead man. There was a decent distance between them and the closet and all sounds that reached her were muffled and indecipherable. But with no actual wounds on him, she hoped that a natural death would be the soldier's first assumption. What else could they think if the man showed no indication at all of how he had died? And maybe they would also just assume that he had forgotten his sword somewhere? She cringed at the unlikeliness of that, and brought a hand to her brow to knead and squeeze. Oh how quickly this whole evening had gone so wrong! If only she had seen him! It was obviously not something planned, and probably if she and Anders had been walking a little bit faster they could have avoided him completely. She wanted to bang her head against the wall in frustrating, but could not afford to make any noise.

Instead she just stood there, frozen, paralyzed with fear as she waited to hear the sounds of the soldiers gathering and investigating. But even if there had been nothing for them to see, she couldn't drag Anders all the way into the main building, through the Great Hall and back down to the lower floors. She had no choice but to stay put until he woke up, and she had no idea when that would be. Based upon the panic that drove the strength of the spell she cast, they could very well be in here all night.

She let out a shaky breath and crouched down. If the soldiers got suspicious and came to investigate the closet for some reason, she would be ready with a spell. But until then, there was nothing more for her to do.

Using her hands as eyes, she patted around the barrel, confirming that there was nothing sitting on its top. She slid the bag and the barrel to the opposite side of the little closet, freeing up the corner that was right next to Anders, and then hoisted the heavy burlap sack up onto the barrel, freeing a little bit more of the floor space. And then she tiptoed over Anders' leg and pushed him over a little so she could settle herself beside him. She slid down the wall and found that there was barely enough room for the two of them to sit shoulder to shoulder. She eased herself in front of him a little bit, letting her shoulder overlap him and she relaxed back as far as she could.

Her hands revealed that his head had fallen forward onto his chest, and she rolled his head up gently, allowing it to list toward her and rest on her shoulder. She rest her own head on top of his and tried to calm herself, forcing herself to breathe slowly and willing her limbs to stop shaking.

After what felt like an hour or so had past, all distant sounds of voices and bodies scurrying about outside the closet had faded. She had no idea what they thought of the dead man they found, but they apparently retrieved the body, looked around where ever they thought to and then left. As far as she could tell, no one had even approached the closet. The light under the gap of the door was gone, and now she was surrounded by complete darkness. All she could hear was the deep, soothing rhythms of Anders' breath.

Slowly, her attention turned back to him. Now that all panic had faded and she had begun to relax, she became vividly aware of the warmth that pooled along her body in the places she was pressed against him. She turned to touch her nose to his hair and inhaled a deep breath, savoring the distinctive Anders scent that nestled in the roots of his hair. She pushed her cramped arms out in front of her and stretched them, trying to loosen the tight muscles and aches caused by holding them tense for the past hour. With her arms free and raised, Anders head rolled back off of her shoulder and fell forward again, but she didn't want to risk his head hanging so low that it restricted his airway. She wedged herself behind him so that she could wrap the arm closest to him around his waist, and pulled him toward her gently, slightly angling his body toward her. She reached around to cup his head and lead it gently back to rest on the wall behind him. His silky hair coursed through her fingers and she couldn't help but raise them up to his face and trail them over his stubbled jaw and the lines of his lips.

Then she dropped her hand to his chest and let it rest upon the beating of his heart, feeling it rise and fall with his deep breaths. Without realizing what she was doing, she turned his resting head so that he was facing her, and in the darkness she found his lips with her own, brushing softly against the pillowy curves of his unresponsive mouth.

After laying a gentle kiss on his lower lip, she rest her own forehead against his and closed her eyes, fighting off all the admonishing thoughts that were ricocheting out of the corners of her mind. She sighed and figured she might as well acknowlede that she didn't really care anymore about what she was supposed to be doing.

She realized then that she was completely and utterly lost. Lost to the Inquisition, lost to the Nightingale, lost to Fiona, herself and her own sense of duty. Lost to everything and everyone but the man resting beside her.