I greatly apologize for being out of the loop for the longest time. We were hit with huge financial hardships and we are struggling to make ends meet, but we are surviving as best as we can. Here is a small chapter for you hungry readers. I promise the next one will feature more Fenris 3

Anders did his best to keep his distance from Hawke as the months went by, slowly retreating back to his clinic and denying Hawke's requests of joining her party whenever she was to set out on another adventure. All he could do was stare at Hawke's back every time she left his clinic without him. They both knew that it was for the best. Hawke had Fenris, and Anders had his clinic and his supposed revolution. He would always carry a special love for Hawke, but he knew that he had a greater loyalty and that wouldn't be fair to Hawke.

He now spent many of his evenings at the Hanged Man. There was no spell or potion that could heal a lonely heart, but he wondered now if he was upset that he lost Hawke as a lover or as a friend. It had been some time since he had met anyone who was sympathetic to his cause. He had always run into such ignorance and closed mindedness that he believed he was truly alone in the world.

There were people like Lirene who did what they could to protect him, but it would not be surprising if Lirene would turn on him if she were to be threatened by Meredith and her heartless templars. Lirene was a kind woman, but he could not rely on someone like her to support his revolution. Hawke was an entirely different type of ally. She was wiling to risk her life to fight for something she believed in. But Anders knew that her heart would accept every person being bullied by injustice, mage or not. He had to let Hawke go and walk his path alone. He raised his hand, ordering another drink.

Anders felt the alcohol running through his body. His cheeks were more than likely flushed, but he never drank more than he could handle. All he wanted was to remember. His dreams were haunted by Darkspawn and Archdemons and every waking moment was spent on his clinic and running from the templars. It was only when he was in the Hanged Man that he was able to think about his childhood and his past. It infuriated him that he was never given a chance to be "normal".

The Circle was only a prison, and he refused to be caged. He had thought many times that he was going to be made Tranquil when they caught him and brought him back. And each time he was accused of murder or becoming a blood mage or some outlandish story that was made up by a scared and ignorant fool. For many years, he didn't use his magic at all, and he felt a piece of him die. It was a part of himself that could not be ignored, but any time he helped someone, they turned on him because they didn't understand.

He finished the last of his drink and stared at the now empty mug. There were only a handful of people that had any degree of faith in him. One person in particular he remembered somewhat fondly encouraged him to continue using his magic for good. But that was the past. However, it was because of her that he considered opening a clinic in Kirkwall. He rubbed his fingers over the rim of his mug lost in thought.

Another mug was set beside him, and he saw slender fingers pushing the drink toward him. He looked up and it took a great deal of will not to jump to his feet. He had never thought he would see her again. His whole body stiffened as panic started to creep into his nerves. His staff was within arm's reach, but a large part of him did not want to bring harm to the woman before him. He only wanted to escape as he had always done in the past. He stared into those lovely violet eyes of hers, doing his best to remain calm.

There were many times when he had gazed into those eyes and he remembered that they glared back at him more than once, but they were never filled with hate. They had argued countless times, but there was a mutual respect between them that the arguments never escalated into a level that would damage their relationship. He was not even sure if they were friends, but he could not deny that she risked her own life to save him as he did for her.

"You look like you could use a few more rounds," she said with amusement taking a swig of her own mug and taking a seat across from him as though there was no doubt he had invited her to his table.

"I place blame on the bias that's leeched its way into every fool in this city," Anders said lowly. Unfortunately, both of his hands were on the table completely in her view. He couldn't arm himself without alerting her.

"For someone who's on the run, you sure do like to bring attention to yourself," she said with a smile. "You could at least pretend that you are enjoying yourself." She leaned in far enough to where the tips of her long black hair brushed the table. "You look like you're prepared for me to drive a dagger through your heart. Relax, I'm not here for you."

If there was thing that was true of this woman's personality, it was that she never lied. He could feel the tension release from his shoulders. "Then why?" he asked with a sigh. If it wasn't Meredith and her templars hounding him, it was the bloody Circle or his past.

She leaned back slightly to place her elbows on the table. "That I cannot tell you though I wish it was in my power to do so." She grew quiet and this time her eyes were filled with hurt and betrayal. Anders felt a sudden pang of guilt in his stomach. "You never said goodbye."

He turned his head. "I… thought it was wise not to." For the moment, it appeared that she accepted his answer. He had never seen her this vulnerable. There was a time in his life that he toyed with the idea of pursuing her, but it was a fantasy that would have met an ugly end. He knew he would always be alone, and he couldn't bestow that lifestyle upon someone he cared for. "I wanted to…" he added. "But no one is safe around me. You know this."

"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself," she countered. "You know this."

A small laugh escaped his lips. "I do." She and Hawke were very much alike, both strong willed and stubborn, and he was reminded this very instant that the woman before him still held a power over him. Perhaps, that was why he gravitated toward Hawke. She reminded him of the woman sitting before him. Much like Hawke was able to tame Fenris, this woman was able to calm the hatred in him. He missed that connection with her and wondered how he was able to live without it.

"I never stopped searching for you," she chuckled then sighed, shaking her head. "You've changed."

"What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. With the slightest glance this woman could make him feel like a blushing schoolboy.

"Well, you've certainly become more handsome," she said with a wink, making his heart flutter. "But…" her flirtatious smile faded and she slowly reached out and placed her hand on his own, "you seem sadder. Like there is a shadow over your heart. The light that I remember seeing in you is gone." Her eyes were so sad and genuine and it touched his heart.

"Much has happened since we last saw each other," Anders said sadly. He had forgotten her touch. She was one of the few that ever showed him affection without fear. Even when she found out that he was a mage, she welcomed him gladly without a second thought. There was a strong bond between them, but he ran away when the opportunity to explore it further came.

Suddenly, she let go of his hand and stood. She stepped away from the table and gave him a curious and mischievous glance over her shoulder. "Stay with me," she offered with a sly smile.

He stared at her back and watched her walk up the steps that led to the rooms the tavern offered to patrons that had one too many to drink. He looked back to his mug and downed the rest of his drink. Yes, he was a mage that made some foolhardy choices in life and maybe he was an abomination, but he was still a man. He practically jumped to his feet and followed the woman that had temporarily left his memories but had never left his heart.

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