Nothing's ever changed, you still turn away.

You've washed your hands, you've made that all too clear.

You just keep on living this lie.

You refuse to see, you're denying me
The cross I bear but you don't seem to care.

I keep wondering why
I'm still calling your name through my tears.

Why have you waited to embrace me, my dear?

Cold is your silence, denying what is real.

I'm still wondering why

I'm still calling your name, my dear.

~The Cross by Within Temptation~

Chapter Ten

Marian walked into Varric's suite with slow steps and sat down on one of the chairs around the large table, folded her hands and stared straight forward. He glanced up from the latest story he was working on, and set his quill aside when he saw her face.

He rubbed his stubbled chin, already thick with growth since he had shaved that morning. It was later than he was used to Hawke dropping by, already well past midnight. Something was definitely up.

"You look like shit, but I bet the other guy looks worse, right?"

She shrugged slightly and turned a glassy-eyed gaze toward him. "I don't know. This is mostly his blood I'm wearing. How quickly can we be ready to leave for the Deep Roads, Varric? I need to get out of Kirkwall as soon as possible."

Rubbing the back of his neck, he did a quick mental inventory. "Once I have your share of the coin, I can have everything ready to go within two days. You wanna tell me what happened?"

Reaching for the bag of gold tied to her waist, she pulled it off and set it down. "Cullen found out I'm a mage. One of the recruits left the Gallows and Cullen went after him on his own. There were demons. He was outnumbered…he would have died if I...I tried to help, but I was forced to use magic to save us." Her voice dropped to a low murmur. "He was not forgiving of my deception. I intended to tell him before now, I just…" She rubbed her hand across her stinging eyes. "Screwed up. Maker's breath, I screwed it all up royally."

Varric drummed his fingers on the table, wondering what kind of damage control was needed. "Did you kill him?"

She recoiled in horror, her eyes gone wide. "What? No! Of course I didn't kill him."

He held his hands up to calm her. "I just had to ask. If he isn't dead that makes some things easier and some things…trickier."

"You're telling me." She rested her forehead against the palm of her hand, massaging her temples tiredly. "I've already decided to go home after I leave here, but only long enough to gather a few necessary things. I'll go and ask Anders to let me stay with him until time to leave. He has the most experience with hiding and being on the run."

Varric smirked and shook his head. "I'm sure Blondie will just love playing watch dog for you, Hawke." He sobered and gave her a long, assessing look. "Do you really think the templar will pursue it? It was my impression that he was pretty gone on you. He wouldn't be the first of his kind to look the other way."

Hawke pushed to her feet and turned toward the doorway, but paused with her back to her dwarf friend, looking back over her shoulder. "I'm not quite sure what to expect from Cullen, but I can't take any chances. I just hope I haven't endangered my family with all this." She took a deep breath and braced her hand against the doorjamb. "I'll check in with you tomorrow."

Slipping quietly from shadow to shadow, Marian made it back to her uncle's place without running into another soul. Opening the door silently, she crept from the main room into the tiny space she shared with Carver, jerking in startlement when Carver suddenly peeled away from the wall where he had been leaning and loomed in front of her. Looking up into his worried eyes, her own filled with tears before she hurriedly looked away. Stepping to the bunk beds they slept in, she knelt down, pulling out her old, ragged fabric bag she had last used when they fled Lothering, and started stuffing it full of her few possessions and items of clothing.

"What are you doing, Mari, what happened? You look like you saw a ghost, and why are you so late? I was about to go out and start searching for you, since Mother is finally sleeping," Carver whispered in an urgent tone.

Quickly wiping away the moisture from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing her task. "I went to help Cullen from where he had gone to deal with Wilmod, along the coast. When I found him, he was badly wounded and surrounded by shades and demons. I had to use magic to save us both, and again to try to heal his wound before he bled to death." Standing, she stepped around Carver and went to the small chest on the other side of the little room and continued filling her bag.

Frowning, Carver crossed his arms. "And?" he whispered, "what did he say? Will he keep our secret?"

Smiling bitterly, Marian stood and slid one of the straps of the bag over her shoulder, avoiding Carver's gaze. "I don't know for sure, but suffice it to say, he did not take the news well." Her fingers crept up and lightly touched the dried blood on her throat.

Batting her hand away, Carver lifted her chin up and peered closely at her neck before he glared in anger into her eyes. "He dared to cut you? I'll kill him!"

Sighing tiredly at Carver's usual overreaction, she stepped back and shook her head. "He didn't mean it, he flung his sword away after he saw my blood. It was I who stepped into his blade and told him to kill me if he felt me too much of a monster to live."

Carver's jaw throbbed in anger. "Where does that leave us, then? Surely you can't trust that he won't run to his Order and come and fetch you to the Circle...or worse."

Lifting her chin, she met her brother's troubled gaze and shook her head. "Varric is readying everything for the Deep Roads expedition, I will hide for the two days until all is prepared, then I will be gone for some time. That's as far as I can think, at present." She attempted a smirk, but the expression was all bitterness and pain. "Maybe I'll die in the Deep Roads, then all problems are solved, you and Mother will no longer be burdened or have to hide because of me."

Growling with upset, Carver reached out and shook her by the shoulders angrily. "Stop it with that kind of shit, Mari, you know I can't stand that talk! And you meant to say 'WE'. We are going to the Deep Roads in two days." His eyes narrowed when she shook her head.

"You have to stay here and protect Mother, Carver. I can't and you know there isn't anyone else. Please!" She begged fervently. "Father would never forgive us if we left her vulnerable and something happened."

Carver stepped away with a quiet, humorless laugh, then drew a deep breath while his gaze strayed to the small fire glowing in the metal grate in the corner. "So, no different that ever. You will run off and do as you please, while I am left to deal with the fucking mess you leave behind!" He sneered at her, turning to the door. "Thanks a lot, sister, enjoy your journey."

Stung by his angry words, Marian stared at the door until her vision blurred, finally turning to complete her packing.

Opening the door a crack to see who was tapping on it in the middle of the night, Anders eyes widened before he opened the door fully, his assessing gaze sweeping over the woman in front of him from head to toe, lingering on the blood staining her clothes, the cut on her throat and the full bag over her shoulder.

"Hawke," he murmured in a concerned tone, closing his fingers around her wrist and tugging her gently inside before he closed and locked the door once more. "What happened? Are you all right?"

Smiling sheepishly, she turned away and walked deeper into the dimly lit space, dropping her bag on one of the narrow cots that Anders used for his patients. "I thought it might be fun to have a mage's slumber party," she said flippantly. "I leave for the Deep Roads in two days, so I thought there was no time like the present to have our fun…" Her voice cracked on the last word and she turned away and drew a deep breath to try to rein in her emotions. She was afraid of what Anders would think of her after he heard about Cullen, while also drowning in her own guilt, with Carver's harsh words still circling round and round in her head like a swarm of angry bees.

Walking past her, Anders went to a wall-mounted cupboard and drew out a small amber bottle and a clean square of fabric for dressing wounds. After soaking the cloth in the liquid, he walked back to her, gently lifted her chin and washed the cut at her throat. Marian closed her eyes and released the breath she had been holding, one side of her lips quirking up.

"Will I live, Serrah?" She asked, still attempting to deflect with humor. Anders met her gaze, and the depth of sympathy and shared pain she saw there undid what was left of her crumbling defenses, and she looked away when tears instantly rose and cascaded freely down her cheeks while he finished cleaning her wound and healed it.

"The Knight-Captain?" he murmured. At her nod he smiled, the expression tinged with bitterness and gave a slight nod of his own. "It may not feel like it now, Hawke, but you will live. I vow to you that nothing shall harm you while you are in my care. In whatever way I can offer aid, I am here for you, just as you were for me in my time of need."

"Thank you, Anders," she gasped tearfully, "you were the only one I could think to come to...who would care….and understand. Though I do not blame you if you condemn my actions. I was a damn fool to think there could be any other outcome."

"Shhhh," he whispered, pulling her into his arms, his embrace tightening when she clung to him in desperation. "I've got you, and there's no condemnation here, none at all. You're safe with me, just let it all out. You have always been the strong one for everyone else around you, but I see you, Marian Hawke. I understand what you're feeling."

He stroked soothing fingers through the messy strands of her dark hair, while she wept with such a depth of pain he felt the ache of it in the core of his own being. His eyes flashed briefly with a bright blue glow before he mastered himself, but his anger was a living, breathing thing inside him. That someone had dared to wound the kind, caring woman in his arms so deeply was unforgivable; a woman he was coming to realize he would do almost anything to protect. Damn the idiot templar, and all his kind. One day there would come a reckoning when they were made to answer for all the atrocities mages were forced to suffer at their hands. One day...

When she started to sag wearily in his arms after her tears had run dry, Anders pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head and pulled her toward the back room that was his private space. She looked up at him in question, and he gave her a kind smile. "You need sleep. You can take my bed."

Marian shook her head. "Absolutely not. I'm already imposing, I can use one of the cots out front."

"Healer's orders, you need a good sleep, and you'll not get it in one of those awful cots." He lifted his hand in a flourish toward what looked to be a nice, comfortable bed, and surprisingly spacious.

"Wait…" Marian grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving and bit her lip, not wanting to be left entirely alone with her misery. "We could...share it, if you aren't opposed to the idea. You know...back to back, as...friends? Mage slumber party, and all," she joked.

Anders tilted his head and smiled teasingly. "You aren't afraid of sleeping with me?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why, in Andraste's name, should I be afraid of you?" She gasped in mock horror. "You don't...snore, do you?"

He waggled his brows in apparent mischief. "I most certainly do. AND, I also drool and talk in my sleep. Possibly even steal all the covers. Still keen to share?"

Hawke snickered, reaching for his hand again to tug him toward the bed, pleasantly surprised by this much more light-hearted version of Anders than she was accustomed to. "I used to share with the twins when we were all young, I'm sure you aren't half as awful or violent in your sleep as either of them."

His brown eyes dulled with a briefly haunted expression before it cleared and he smiled again. "I did suffer nightmares of darkspawn some time ago, but you can just slug me in the arm if I disturb you. Justice generally ensures I stay nightmare free these days."

They both sat on the edge of the bed and removed their shoes before settling on their backs under the blanket, side by side. Anders leaned over and blew out the flickering candle on the little bedside table. They laid quietly in the dark before Hawke turned on her side to face him, examining his profile in the dim light as her curiosity over his former life stirred.

"What was it like, becoming a Grey Warden? All I have heard of Grey Wardens make them sound so brave and heroic, but what was your own experience, if you don't mind saying?" she inquired in a hushed tone.

He drew a long, deep breath before he spoke."Well, I certainly wouldn't call it a good time. Drinking some magically-infused darkspawn blood concoction will either kill you outright, or you wake up attuned to darkspawn and able to feel them." He glanced over at her, his brows furrowed as he continued. "Any Grey Warden who makes it through their joining is still living on borrowed time, possibly only three or four decades before the taint becomes too strong to resist; that's referred to as the Calling. We are encouraged to go commit suicide via battle with the darkspawn in the Deep Roads, taking out as many of them as we can before we fall." His voice dropped to just above a whisper. "A hero's death, as they call it."

Hawke gasped in shock at his calm recounting of such horrors, reaching out to squeeze his hand in the dark. "Anders, I had no idea, forgive me! I have never heard of any of these awful things you speak of."

"No, you wouldn't have." He turned his hand over and grasped her fingers in his own, his expression troubled. "They are very determined to keep all their secrets, and they would likely kill me for what I have just told you, but I don't give a damn about any of it. I was forced into it, like so many are, but it's a grim fate, make no mistake. All the stories of battle and glory are just to sugar coat it and lure as many as possible into their ranks." He sighed and looked back at the ceiling above him. "I would rather you know the truth of it and not some fairy-tale."

Scooting closer, she wrapped her arm around his, leaning her head against his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You, of all people, do not deserve such a fate. It isn't fair. I wish there were something I could do to help you."

Absently stroking his thumb across her fingers on the hand he still held, he shook his head. "It's alright, Hawke, I've made peace with it."

With the strain and fatigue of the day pulling on her, Hawke's eyelids grew heavy and slid closed. Her final thought before she slipped into sleep was one of surprise, at how much she had underestimated Anders, and how greatly she had come to value his friendship in so brief a time. Her broken heart had been greatly soothed by his gentle acceptance and care.

When Marian awoke, Anders was already out in the clinic, tending to those who had come seeking his help. She took the time to use the privy, as well as the fresh water he had clearly left for her benefit, and washed off Cullen's blood and changed into clean clothes, dashing angrily at the tears that insisted on flowing anytime her mind recalled how Cullen had looked at her with such anger and hurt on his handsome face…

Looking at herself in the small mirror, she glared at the pathetic, wan face that stared back and straightened her shoulders. "Suck it up and get over it, Marian, there are things to be done and no time to wallow in self-pity. You're tougher than this."

"I think you are very hard on yourself, Hawke," Anders murmured kindly from where he stood in the doorway watching her. "There is nothing wrong with taking a day to come to terms with what happened and how things have changed."

Hawke bit her lip and blushed at being caught speaking nonsense to herself in the mirror before she looked up and met his gaze. "I don't want to think about any of it now, or of all the stupid mistakes I made, I'll run mad if I do. I need a distraction, something to keep me too busy to think."

Anders gave her a long look, smiled and extended a hand to her, which she walked forward and took. Her brows rose as his smile changed to a teasing smirk while he pulled her out into the main clinic. "I can keep you very busy, Hawke. Come on, it's high time you learned to heal properly so you won't hurt those you're trying to heal."

She followed reluctantly, shaking her head. "But how will I practice without hurting someone? I don't want to worsen the pain of any who come here seeking relief through your excellent healing."

He stopped and gave her a mildly chiding look. "I will help you, of course. Do you really think I would let you hurt anyone? Just trust me. Your main difficulty is your lack of belief in your own magic to heal, and how easily that flusters you; once you build your confidence in that area, you'll be mending bodies like a true spirit healer."

Her lips twisted ruefully. "Do you really think so? That it will come so easily for me?"

Sweeping a hand toward all the people waiting nearer the clinic door, Anders nodded. "Yes, I do. Now, let's go and help these people, hmm?"

Hours later, Anders locked the clinic door while Hawke flopped down on the nearest cot and groaned, rubbing her forehead. His patient, excellent instruction over the course of the day had allowed her to reliably be able to cast healing, over and over, without harming a single creature. She no longer feared botching trying to heal, and was relieved she would never again repeat whatever awful thing had happened when she healed Cullen. Something else to be grateful to Anders for; she was racking up quite a list.

"Who knew healing people for hours on end could be worse than fighting a demon? I didn't expect to be so sore just from wielding unfamiliar magic." She groaned again in pleasure when Anders walked up behind her and started massaging the tension from her neck and shoulders, paying special attention to the knots around her shoulder blades.

"Mhhhm, Anders, your hands are magical," Hawke moaned on a breathy sigh.

"Well, yes," he chuckled, "of course they are, but what you're enjoying now is the benefit of all the years I have spent studying the human body." He finally stepped away and sat on the cot facing her, smirking inwardly at her dreamy-eyed expression that made her look like a woman who had very recently been sexually satisfied. Where did that come from? He frowned and shook his head to dislodge the thought.

"I bet you've satisfied lots of lovers with those hands."

Anders looked up sharply, then shrugged and looked down at his hands as he held them out; they looked rather unremarkable as hands went. "I suppose I have, in my day."

Hawke snorted and shook her head. "You make it sound as though you are so old, Anders. Surely you can't be very many years older than me."

Smiling in amusement, Anders gave her a very slow, speculative look up and down, his golden brown eyes growing warmer the longer he held her gaze. "I would say I am easily decades ahead of you, just in experience alone."

Rolling her eyes, Hawke leaned forward. "I've had plenty of experiences, including ogres and dragons, can't forget those."

"But we are not referring to fighting, though I've certainly done plenty of that too." He pursed his lips. "We were speaking of lovers, and that I have had many, which I have, and you have had…" He tilted his head, his eyes moving across her body again before they lifted and locked with her curious blue eyes. "One?"

Hawke gasped, her eyes widening in her surprise, and she leaned further toward him in fascination. "However can you tell such a thing merely by looking at me?"

Anders leaned back, curling his fingers around the edge of the cot and supporting his weight with his hands, a small smile curving his lips. "It's the look in your eyes, in the sway of your hips when you walk, in the way you watch a man you find attractive with curiosity, perhaps wondering what kind of lover he would be, hmm? Everything about you proclaims innocence and inexperience, and of a woman newly awakened to the previously unknown world of sensual pleasure. Am I wrong?"

She shook her head, still stunned by his words, but her mind beginning to ponder. "You're not wrong, you describe me exactly." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Maybe if I had had you as a close friend to talk to some months ago, I would have known to be more careful with my teeth when giving head…"

Anders barked a surprised laugh at her stark honesty, looking incredulous. "You didn't, did you?"

Dissolving into giggles, she nodded her head. "Yes. I think I get high marks for enthusiasm, but none at all for finesse. Alas." She shrugged. "At least it's not a mistake I will ever make again, surely that counts for something."

His laughter trailed off and Anders shook his head. "Despite any temporary...discomfort." Hawke smirked in response and he continued. "I'm sure the recipient found the brief pain to be negligible, in light of the pleasure he would have received from having your mouth on him. That experience alone would have been well worth any small pain in the process. The important question is, did you like it?"

Hawke pushed to her feet and stretched her arms over her head and nodded. "Yes, I did like it. Very much. At least as much or more than when it was done to me. Is that strange?"

Anders also stood and looked down at her. "I don't think it's strange at all. You are a generous, giving person, and that's exactly the kind of lover I would expect you to be. We are very alike in that way, I think. In fact, if you feel you really want to practice and be prepared, in the unlikely event your foolish templar comes to his senses, I am quite willing to make the sacrifice and stand in for him."

Blinking up at him in astonishment, Hawke's mouth opened and closed before she found her voice, trying to suppress the giggles that were desperately trying to overtake her at his shocking words. "Anders...Did you really just offer to let me practice sucking your cock?"

"Yes, but not only that," he replied, deadpan. "There are lots of things I could teach you beyond how to suck like an Orlesian courtesan. I could also teach you how to ride like the very best. What technique to use to prolong your man, or which muscles will finish him off more quickly, for times you just aren't in the mood. Far more effective than feigning a headache, I daresay. This is all very valuable knowledge, and will serve you for the rest of your life."

"You...you are joking, aren't you?" she stammered, dumbfounded, beginning to doubt whether he was jesting or in earnest. "What if I said yes, I wanted fuck lessons? Are you going to give them to me, truly? Can you really just have sex with anyone, without having any feelings for them, or...or being in love with them? Because, I don't think that I can…"

Anders finally cracked a wide smile, winked and chuckled. "I am teasing you...mostly. You seem to really bring out that side of me, which I no longer thought possible after Justice. I also like to hear you laugh, you don't do it nearly enough."

"Oh," she said, weak with relief, then jerked her chin toward the door, deciding a change of scenery might do them good. "Let's go to the Hanged Man. I need to check in with Varric. I'll buy you a drink and you can tell me of your most awkward and unfortunate sexual experience, since you now know mine."

Anders mouth twisted in a crooked smile while he ushered her out into Darktown. "Only if Isabela isn't there, I won't have her knowing my most interesting secrets."

The following day, Hawke paced back and forth on the plush rug that covered the floor of Varric's suite, her mind racing with all the last-minute details she had been running all over Kirkwall to complete. Not an easy task when she was determined to avoid the sight of any and all templars.

Her stomach twisted with sick nerves every time she considered what might happen to her if it were Cullen she ran into. Would he try to take her captive? Surely he wouldn't hurt her family while she was away, would he? Was it wrong for her to leave after she had exposed them to danger? Was Carver right about her abandoning him to deal with her mess and bad choices? Should she leave Kirkwall for good after the Deep Roads, so her family would finally be free of the burden of her, or would that be too difficult for her mother to bear, losing her eldest child?

The tapping of Varric's quill against the list he was going over finally drew her attention to him and away from her own dark thoughts. He had been watching her stew for the past half an hour, and finally broke the silence.

"So, Hawke, you haven't said who you intend to take along, only that Junior wouldn't be coming."

"I went and saw Fenris earlier, as he had previously volunteered to come help me. He will meet us in the morning, that way I still have another sword. I don't really feel comfortable asking any of the others to take a risk in the Deep Roads." She fidgeted, straightening her belt knife at her waist and sighed. "I also don't need any other deaths on my conscience," she finished quietly.

"I'm coming, too, you'll need a healer," Anders announced, striding into the room and coming to a standstill near Hawke.

She gave him a surprised look, crossed her arms and frowned. "I know when I asked you before that you said you would, but I could never ask that of you now, Anders. What kind of friend would that make me? I'm sure the Deep Roads are the very last place you want to venture, considering the Wardens, and all."

He reached out, gripped her upper arms and shook his head. "You're mad if you think I'll let you go into the Deep Roads without me. I can sense spawn, and that's very important there. I also meant what I said, Marian, I won't allow anything to harm you, nor will I let you face this journey alone. You need me," he finished in a low tone. She bit her lip and finally nodded, agreeing wordlessly.

Varric's brows climbed while he watched them, his eyes narrowing, not only at Anders sudden use of Hawke's given name, but the overly familiar way he touched her and spoke to her. He wasn't exactly sure what the healer was playing at, but he had his suspicions. Hopefully, he was wrong.

"Blondie and the elf, traveling together?" Varric chuckled and shook his head when Anders and Hawke turned to look at him. "I sure hope you know what you're doing there, Hawke."

Hawke shot a concerned look at Anders, who scoffed. "I've had to work with all manner of unpleasant people in the past. One more angry prick isn't anything new. I can be civil with Fenris, as long as he keeps his mage hatred to himself."

Varric shrugged and rolled up the parchment in front of him, standing to his feet. "If you say so, Blondie." He shifted his attention to Hawke. "Looks like everything's been taken care of. You should try and get a good night's sleep while you can, not sure how long it will be until we have the luxury of real beds again." At Hawke's nod, he continued. "We'll meet in the Merchant's Guild courtyard in Hightown, at dawn."

"See you then, Varric," Hawke murmured, then followed Anders out the door. Varric downed the last swallow of his ale, looked across the room at his comfortable bed, and decided to take his own advice.