These lyrics are incredibly changed, so much so that it's more like a Weird Al Yankovic version. But, hopefully it still channels Pocahontas. Again, one of my favourite Disney's, so I hope I've done it justice. No pun intended.

Colours Of The Wind (Pocahontas) – Anders

"You are a mage," growled the elf. "You cannot be trusted! None of you can!"

"And you would know about that, would you?" asked Anders, trying to keep his calm. 'Trying' being the operative. Hawke had seen it best to make her two friends – despite being almost sworn enemies themselves – travel together to find the silverite vein they'd come across a few weeks ago. Needless to say, it had turned into an argument. Anders, however, was under strict instructions to 'stay calm and be nice'.

"You are not like anyone else! You are – "

"We're not like you," sighed Anders. He glared at Fenris, reminding himself of his promise to Hawke. Maybe it was time to explain, instead of argue. The elf was hunching his shoulders and scowling, his brow furrowed. How could Hawke stand this man? "You think I'm an ignorant mage," stated Anders. There were no two ways about it, really. "And you've seen so many others, I guess it must be so… But still I cannot see," he reasoned, "if the ignorant one is me - how can there be so much that you don't know?" He stared at the resentful elf, before repeating, sadly, "You don't know?"

He led his scowling companion along the path. "You think that every mage must be a madman," he sighed, as he walked. "We all have too much power, you can claim. But I know every elf and plant and human has a spirit, a connection with the Fade."

Fenris huffed as Anders tapped his fingers lightly against the rocks around them, checking for stray lyrium veins that occasionally snuck up from underground. Anders rolled his eyes. "You think the only people who are people are the people with no magic, just like you," he accused, wondering – not for the first time – if all of Fenris' hate was borne of jealousy. After all, he had watched the magisters' unrivalled power all of his life, and been unable to compete. Maybe that was why he hated it. "But if you walked the footsteps of a Healer," he said, gently, "you'd learn things you never knew, you never knew."

As they reached the top of the outcrop they'd been climbing, Anders looked out across the panorama before turning back to Fenris. "Have you ever heard the thrumming of the elements?" he asked, dramatically, throwing his arms wide. "Or felt the magic pulsing in your veins?" Fenris narrowed his eyes, and shook his head. "Can you sing with all the voices of the spirits?" shouted Anders. "Can you paint with all the colours of the Fade? Can you paint with all the colours of the Fade?"

Summoning a brief wind spell to envelop the two of them, Anders hurled himself from the outcrop to the pathway below. As Fenris landed – somewhat heavier than his predecessor – Anders clutched his wrist and began running down the path toward the sea, a heady rush of exhilaration filling him. It wasn't very day he got to profess his love for his magic.

"Come run the hidden corridors of your dreaming," he urged, dragging the elf behind him. "Come taste the bittersweet of lyrium! Come roll in all the wonders magic creates, and for once, forget the bad you've seen done." He lifted the amulet Hawke had given Fenris in front of his face, raising an eyebrow. He could have sworn that the elf had blushed.

"The apostates and keepers are my brothers!" he admitted, proudly. "The spirits and the dreamers are my friends!" He thought quickly of Justice, but pushed it away. Justice was his friend. "And we are all connected to each other; elves and humans, and the Maker's first children."

Fenris tripped over Anders' pounding feet suddenly, landing heavily on his arm. Instinctively, Anders reached out with magic. He found the source of the pain, and – there. Healed. He laughed at the (slightly incredulous) glare he received in thanks. "How far could healing spell go?" he pondered. He then shrugged helplessly. "If you kill the mage, then you'll never know…"

He turned to gaze across the sea as the sun began to set. "And you'll never hear the thrumming of the elements!" he called back to his wide-eyed companion. "For whether we wield magic or a blade – we need to sing with all the voices of the spirits! We need to paint with all the colours of the Fade."

He turned back to Fenris. The elf's expression changed, almost but not quite immediately, from wonderment to a grimace. Anders shook his head sadly. He would never change the elf's mind. "You can curse magic," he sighed, "and still, it remains a curse until you can paint with all the colours of the Fade…"

The two returned home in silence. When Hawke asked if they found the silverite vein, they merely mumbled. Anders swore he heard Fenris humming as he stalked off into the darkness of Hightown.

-0-0-0-0-

Now I have this mental image of Anders running around the Wounded Coast, his hair billowing behind him and wearing that Pocahontas dress.

...

*shudder*

DivineStorms - Thank you again :)

Apollo - Haha, thanks :) That would be great! *toddles off to ponder characters*

Up Next: The Warden makes sure that Denerim welcomes its Prince Alistair with a bang.