A few days later, Anders went to check on the woman, and found her with her eyes open wide, staring at the ceiling, almost as if it was going to start raining demons on her.

"I see you're awake again, is everything all right?" She jumped at his voice and proceeded to stare at him with the same look of horror, and it made him frustrated. "I'm not going to kill you, or hurt you, no matter why you've come, even if you hate mages so much." Her face twisted up for a second as if she was going to start crying before she clamped down on her emotions and looked away. What in the Maker's name is her problem?

"Do you at least have a name?" He asked.

"Claire Victoria." She said.

"Is that Tevene?" Anders asked, surprised. "I recognize Victoria, which means victory, right? Is that your name, or a saying? Are you from Tevinter?" She grew more upset.

"I'm not from Tevinter." She said. "I hate Tevinter."

"Because of the magic?" Anders started feeling annoyed again.

"No... I don't hate magic." She still refused to look at him and started crying, but he couldn't figure out why she was so upset, except that she had to be lying. He decided wasn't going to get anywhere with her and walked away to deal with his other patients until Hawke came in with Fenris. Anders wasn't entirely pleased to see them, but at least they would talk to him.

"How is she today?" Hawke asked.

"She refuses to speak to me, aside from saying her name is Claire Victoria, and she hates Tevinter, but she claims she's not from there. I find myself not believing her." Anders grumbled. He wasn't at all convinced she didn't hate magic, so he didn't mention it.

"Perhaps her parents are from the Imperium. Why else would anyone name a child clear victory?"

"Perhaps I can try talking to her." Hawke said.

"Yes, perhaps she'll be more open with someone who isn't a mage." Anders sighed.

"Messere, you got to come quick!" A woman came running in, grabbing the healer's sleeve. "He's down a ways, hurt real bad." Anders looked at Hawke, who gave him a look to assure him everything would be fine, then left with the woman. At least there were still people around who appreciated his gift.

Claire couldn't believe she'd frozen like that with Anders, unable to really communicate anything. He probably didn't believe her anyway and assumed she hated magic, and was just saying that. She screwed up. Everything was wrong, and she couldn't figure out how to get back home.

"So your name is Claire Victoria?" Hawke asked. She opened her eyes in shock, staring at the Champion as he and Fenris looked down at her. She nodded slowly, while cussing in her head. Stay calm, stay calm, they're just going to talk...

"Are your parents from Tevinter?" Fenris asked.

"No..." She said, wondering why they were interrogating her. She couldn't tell them anything, it might screw everything up. It was bad enough she was there and had given away as much as she had.

"So where are you from?" Hawke asked. She kept her mouth shut, wishing she'd picked a better story than the one she'd concocted, as it felt flat and lame the more she thought about it. "You're not making this very easy on yourself. How do you know of Anders?" He pressed. She looked away, refusing to speak. She didn't want to sound like a creepy stalker, it might make them deem her a threat. She felt Hawke grab her hand and she looked over in horror as he brought a small knife up to it.

"No, what are you doing?" She gasped, trying to get away. Just that action sent shooting pain through her body, and then he leaned against her, pinning her down as he put the knife under a fingernail. Fuck! No! What can I do? What can I say?

"I don't tolerate potential threats to my friends. Why are you here?" Hawke asked, his voice cold.

"I don't know!" She wished she could give him a proper answer, but he wasn't going to accept the truth and anything he would accept might only seal her fate. Searing pain ripped through her as he jabbed the knife under her nail, and she screamed. He covered her mouth with his arm, muffling her cries, as she writhed in pain.

"Are you going to tell us the truth?" He asked when she'd stopped trying to scream. "What do you want with Anders?" I don't know I don't know I don't know! She was screaming in her mind, but she couldn't say. It didn't matter what she said, he wasn't going to believe her, he wasn't going to get the answers he wanted.

"Nothing!" She cried.

"Then why are you here?"

"I already told you!" She kept trying to get away, but he was too strong and she was still too injured. More searing pain as he stabbed another nail. She vaguely heard people arguing nearby, but she was crying too hard to understand them. She felt the weight of him get off her and she curled into a ball, shaking from the pain, afraid to even look at what he'd done to her hand. Maker, just let me die... Why am I even here, why, it doesn't make sense, it hurts... Maker it hurts... I'm going to throw up.

The man had been easy to heal and Anders was back in his clinic in no time, only to hear screaming coming from the back.

"We're afraid to go back there, messere." Another man said. "He's torturing her..." Justice came out, unbidden, as Anders turned the corner. Claire's hand was covered in blood, and Hawke was holding a bloodied knife.

"What do you mean by this?" Anders growled, his voice changed by the spirit. "How dare you torture a patient in my clinic!"

"Even after that, she won't talk." Hawke said, unfazed by Justice. "Claims she doesn't know why she's here and she wants nothing to do with you. I still don't trust her..." Anders was pissed, but he understood, and Justice begrudgingly faded back. After everything Hawke had been through, with his brother, sister, and especially mother, he was overly cautious. Even Isabela had stabbed him in the back with the Qunari a year prior, someone he had trusted and considered a friend. He was the type to take care of a potential danger the soonest he could, and was very slow to trust.

"Hawke, she's too injured to be a threat." Anders sighed. "And now she may never speak again." Hawke looked upset and nodded.

"I... think I got a little carried away. I just don't trust her, that she knows of you and has strange poisons and assassin blades, and Chantry stuff, even if she denies it as such."

"I appreciate the concern, but I had better heal her..." More work for me to do. She's already been draining me enough.

"For what it's worth," Fenris said. "I do believe her when she says she doesn't know why she's here. She wasn't expecting us when we first met her, that much was very clear."

"Thank you." Anders said.

"Please let me know when she's recovered." Hawke said. "I must know why she's so bloody secretive! It makes me nervous."

"I will." He watched his friends walk out, feeling exhausted already. He turned and looked at Claire, curled up on the cot, getting blood everywhere, and sighed. He gently took her hand to assess the damage, but she started crying more.

"No no no please, no more..." She sobbed. "I already told you I don't know why I'm here..." He brushed her hair behind her ear while trying to soothe her. She may have a fear of mages, but he didn't need to contribute to it.

"It's all right, I'm trying to heal you. I won't hurt you." He said. She looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Anders..." It wasn't horror in her eyes, but sheer relief this time. "I'm sorry." She said, wiping her eyes with her good hand, looking lost and alone.

"Why are you sorry?" He asked.

"I've messed everything up..." She was trying not to cry, but she wasn't doing a good job of it. "I don't know why I'm here, I shouldn't be here..." She slowly lost consciousness, and Anders considered it a blessing, with everything she'd been through.

He thought it might be better to move her to a room that was in the far back, through an old hallway, a place no one ever went. It would give her more privacy, and keep her from Hawke, who seemed far too adamant to get answers. How could he have thought torturing her was a good idea, especially in her condition? He finished her hand and went to prepare the room, thinking on what she'd said, and the look she'd given him. Why would she be relieved to see him? Perhaps seeing anyone would be a relief after Hawke...

He cleaned the blood off her and then carried her carefully to the back, setting her on the clean bed. She didn't look very peaceful, even in her sleep, and he wondered what sort of life she'd had, and why she didn't know why she was there. Perhaps she'd been kidnapped, or was an escaped slave. Whatever she was, he wasn't sure they'd ever find out. At the end of the day, he went back to check on her, finding her awake again, but staring at the wall with a look he understood all too well.

"Would it help to talk about it?" He asked, sitting on the box he'd brought back for a chair. Depression wouldn't do her any good in healing faster.

"I don't know if I can..." She mumbled. "It's not something one can just... talk about."

"Does it have to do with where you're from and how you got here?" He asked. "Is that why you can't say anything?"

"Yes." She looked at the hand that had been mutilated. "Thank you. I know you're a healer, I'm sure you felt obligated, but thank you." She started crying, but he saw her bottle it up again.

"It's all right, you don't have to be afraid here." Is she afraid of me? Or has she been alone so long she feels the need to hide herself?

"Is that why you put me in the back?" She frowned. "I never thought the Champion would be so... cruel."

"He's not necessarily cruel." Anders sighed. "He had to sell himself into servitude to a mercenary to get his family into Kirkwall, and then he lost his sister to the Deep Roads, something he blamed me for at first, even though he didn't want me to go. He lost his mother to a sadistic bastard, and someone he considered a friend destroyed his trust when she brought war to Kirkwall. He's had a rough life, and I try to be understanding, but he's got his way of getting things done that not many of us agree with."

"Protective..." She said. "He cares a great deal about you, and I'm a threat because I can't give him the answers he wants. He doesn't want to lose you, and he'd blame himself if anything happened to you..." So she understood a lot more than he expected.

"I'm glad you understand." Anders said. "Most people aren't so... forgiving." She started zoning out and he decided he would leave such conversations for later. "I imagine you must be quite hungry by now."

"I... I suppose I am." She said. "I hadn't thought about it."

"You've been through a lot, so I'm not surprised." Anders stood up. "I'll be right back."

While Anders was gone, Claire started thinking of a new plan of action, since the first one was not going to work. She should have gone with being from Tevinter to start, and having left while she was just a child, and perhaps add in some truth, that she was a disappointment to her family, maybe because she wasn't a mage. They had died when she was twelve, along with her little brother, and she'd been passed on to her aunt, who hated her. How often had she run away? Not that her aunt cared. Unfortunately, that was how she had met Markus, who was an abusive shit head and she'd barely been able to escape him. At least he'd never hurt another woman again...

When Claire had turned eighteen, she'd gotten her family's inheritance, which allowed her to start doing stuff with her life. She'd gotten a small apartment in the worst area because it was cheap, had gotten a job that paid slightly more than minimum wage, and dedicated her free time and money to fighting, with various reenactment groups, as well as learning danzan ryu. She could always say she traveled around Thedas, and had learned of Anders from various rumors. It felt lame, but she wanted to give them answers and it was far more believable than some made up land to the south.

But there was a nagging voice in her head, saying that she couldn't get close to Anders. She knew too much, she needed to leave as soon as she was able, if not sooner. What would he do if he found out what she knew? Or where she was really from? Or if he found out she would be more than willing to sacrifice herself for his cause? She couldn't risk anything, he had to go on his own path, even if it meant making him hate her.

When Anders got back, Claire was sitting up, staring at her hands in her lap, her expression flat and exhausted. He set the tray down on the table, but she didn't even look at him.

"Is everything all right?" He asked.

"I am from Tevinter." She said, her voice monotone. "I'm sorry. I left when I was a kid and I want nothing to do with it ever again... I... I was a disappointment. I'm not a mage." He stared at her in shock, wondering what brought on her willingness to open up.

"I'm sorry, that must have been difficult." He said.

"My family was murdered when I was twelve." She pushed the heel of her palm into her face, making it obvious it was still a sore subject for her. "I was forced to live with my aunt, who hated me. I ran away. I've... I've been wandering, I have no home, no friends." She started sobbing again. Anders put a reassuring hand on her back, but she flinched away, shaking her head. "I'm just a lying worthless nobody, just let me crawl off to die alone. I don't need your pity!"

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?" Anders asked. Could anyone believe that? She looked at him, her expression angry and hurt.

"Why shouldn't I? No one has wanted me, not my parents, my aunt, not even the man who claimed to love me who only used me and abused me. Just... leave me alone, you... you unholy abomination! I'll... I'll never like mages!" Is she really trying to get me to go away with such a forced insult? Talking tough to scare away any potential pain? There was no way he could believe she was serious with how fake it sounded.

"Fine. But I do not turn my back on a patient." He said. "No matter where they're from, or what they are. There's food on the table here. I'll leave you in peace." He walked out, then stopped as he heard her heart wrenching sobs. She truly didn't want anyone to get close to her, but he supposed she didn't really know him if she thought he'd abandon someone so readily. He needed to at least tell Hawke what he'd learned.

She knew it would be futile to warn him away, especially with such a flimsy insult, so she figured she would need to just leave, as soon as she was given a proper shirt, anyway. She wasn't sure she could meander around Darktown in just bandages, even if they covered most of everything up top. How was she supposed to get out, anyway? She decided she'd have to wait until really late at night, while Anders was asleep, then she could leave. Unless he left the clinic locked... she couldn't re-lock it. She sighed, frustrated, and ate the soup he'd brought. It wasn't very good, but it was something and she was starving.

There was a cup of something she assumed was an herbal tea she forced herself to drink as well, wondering what sort of garbage food she'd have to get used to eating by running off. If she could even find food. How many people were starving to death in Darktown? Maker, if she was only rich, she could feed them all... but the chances of finding some lost elven temple or whatever full of artifacts would be near impossible, unless she was Hawke, and she was not going to try her hand at the Deep Roads.

She decided she'd ditch her armor and stuff, it'd only make her more of a target, and she didn't even know where it was. She looked down at her necklaces and slowly took them off. She loved them, but she couldn't keep them if she was going to run off. They'd mark her as rich or something, they were something to steal, and she couldn't have anything like that. Maybe Anders could do something with them...

Her anxiety didn't want her to wait any longer, especially with how Anders had left. Her failed attempt at scaring him away obviously hadn't worked, he hadn't believed her one bit. She cringed just thinking about it. She slowly got up, feeling the tightness in her chest, the sharp pains, but decided she would be well enough to leave, so long as she found a place she could rest for the night. Surely there was an old mining cart... She walked out into the hall and looked around. Seeing nothing, she crept into the clinic. Anders didn't seem to be around, so she looked for something she could use as a shirt, praying it wouldn't be some plague ridden thing.

"Can I help you, child?" An old woman looked at her with concern in her eyes.

"I... um, I was looking for a shirt." Claire said. The woman's eyes brightened as she smiled and pointed to a box in the corner.

"It's a donation box, whatever folks can spare."

"Thank you, it will feel good to be clothed again." Claire went over to the box and noticed she was no longer being watched. She grabbed a brown shirt that looked like it was made for a teenage boy. It was a little large, but she was just glad to have something on. Making sure no one was paying attention, she left the clinic.

"What do you mean she is a Vint?" Hawke snapped.

Anders sighed. "I'm just glad she told me." The mage said. "It all makes sense. She said her parents were disappointed in her for not being a mage, and her aunt hated her, so she ran away."

"I can understand that, if they were mages themselves." Fenris grumbled. "No wonder she wants nothing to do with Tevinter and would deny it."

"I suppose I should stop considering her a threat then?" Hawke asked. "If she has no home, where is she going to go after she heals?"

"I don't know, she tried to warn me away." Anders was itching to get back to the clinic lest she decide to run off. "Much like a frightened dog not wanting to get hurt again."

"Can you blame her?" Fenris asked. "Magic has tainted her life, as it does with everyone."

"Not right now, you two!" Hawke barked, before Anders could respond. "Maker, can you guys just drop it for once? You're never going to agree!"

"Fine. But I need to get back, to make sure she's not left." Anders said. "I cannot in good conscience let a patient wander off to die alone, and she made it obvious she doesn't want to stay."

"No, and I don't want her to leave either." Hawke said.

"Still determined to speak with her?" Fenris asked, and Anders wondered if that was jealousy in his tone. He knew Hawke and Fenris had gotten together, briefly, but nothing had seemed to happen with it, which was a shame, because while Anders thought Hawke could do better than Fenris, it would do them both a world of good to just get laid now and then. When they got back to the clinic, one of the old women who helped out, Maude, approached.

"Messere, there was a girl here, covered in bandages around her chest..."

"Did she leave?" Anders asked, knowing the answer already. Dammit, dammit, dammit! He clenched his fist, frustrated.

"She took a shirt from the box first. Acted like she didn't want to be seen, so I left her be."

"Thank you." Anders stormed out of the clinic and rested his head in his arms on the railing.

"We'll find her." Hawke said, but Anders wasn't convinced. She wanted to disappear, and he figured she'd be good at it.

"What would be the point?" He asked. "I can't force a patient to stay. She's on her own now."

Later that night, he went to the back room and stared at the empty bed, her necklaces placed neatly on the pillow. He'd never gotten to ask her about them and what they meant. Maybe it was for the Chantry, and she'd just said it wasn't in a pain induced daze. He took them back to his room and placed them in a small box he kept his Tevinter Chantry amulet that Hawke had given him in. He had a small hope he'd be able to return them to her some day.