Chapter Two

Hawke crouched in the shadow of the Crown and Lion Inn, heart drumming erratically. For a year she had hidden on the outskirts of Amaranthine, taking any menial jobs she could find in order to survive and fit in, all while helping Ella. Biding her time until the day he would draw near.

She had assisted a number of mages on their journey to freedom. Hawke wasn't a crusader or a revolutionary, not anymore, but she did what she could to lend aid to fellow apostates. Most were headed to the Free Marches, and the hope of a better life than they had found in Ferelden. She had silently wished each of them better luck than she had found in her attempt. Although that reality no longer existed, she still carried all her memories of it.

The glass vial of blood between her breasts began to grow warmer, signaling his approach. The time had arrived, and she was as ready as she could be to meet this stranger from the past.

~o~

Anders walked along the darkened path, a sense of urgency speeding his steps. He had sent word of his arrival to Ella through the mage underground. She was a friend he had made on a previous escape attempt, and he hoped there would be someone to meet him soon, as he had been wandering the streets for sometime.

He kept his eyes open for any fellow apostates, but tried not to look too obvious, just in case there were any templars waiting to spring upon him. As much as his freedom meant to him, he didn't want to endanger anyone else.

He glanced back over his shoulder, catching a silvery glint of light shining off a figure in plate armor. City guard…or worse? He broke into a run, hurrying down the steps. A hand reached out of the shadows and grabbed him by the robes, jerking him aside and causing him to stumble.

His first instinct was to fight, but when he was spun and slammed into the side of the building, a feminine hand pressed to his mouth, he decided to take a moment to evaluate the situation. Soft, womanly curves pressed against him as the figure in shadow leaned into breath flowed across his ear.

Hmmm, maybe I'll have good luck tonight, after all.

"Shhh, don't struggle," the woman whispered. "I'm a friend of Ella's. I'm here to help you."

She moved off him, then grasped his hand to lead him further back into the thick darkness. The clunky sounds of someone in armor drew closer, and she yanked urgently on his arm. He broke into a trot to keep up with her. She weaved gracefully in and out of alleyways and across dark roads until they came to a building shrouded in shadow in the less nice part of town, from the looks of it.

They walked to the back, and she slipped a door open and pulled him inside, closing it behind them. Fire hovered from her palm, and she lit two small tapers and turned to face him.

Anders relaxed, now certain he was indeed in the company of another mage. A pretty one at that, and somehow oddly familiar. He wondered fleetingly if he had run into her on one of his previous escapes. He bowed dramatically.

"Thank you for your assistance, dear lady. I am Anders. And you are?"

She stood staring at him silently, her eyes wandering up and down, taking in his elaborate teal and gold robes, complete with black feathers at the shoulders. The gold armbands around his muscled biceps had her raising a surprised brow. Her Anders had never worn anything to draw attention to his body. How different had he been before Justice had taken over?

Anders frowned at the extended silence and the strangely dull look in her eye, and he had a second to wonder if Ella had sent someone addled to help him.

"Hello, anybody there?" He waved a hand in front of her face.

She startled and blushed, crossing her arms as though she were cold.

"Uh, sorry, you just look like someone I used to know. You can call me Hawke. It's nice to meet you….Anders."

He smiled, intrigued. "Let me guess. Is it an old boyfriend? Please don't tell me I remind you of a templar." He shuddered.

Hawke smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, I don't know any templars." A flash of something went through her eyes and her smile changed to something darker. "Well, I don't know any living templars, I guess I should say. Not anymore."

His brows rose in surprise. Was she implying she was a templar killer? He wasn't sure what to say to that, but it made him look at her a bit more closely. She really was very lovely, with her pale skin, blue eyes and dark hair, but there was something more. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but whatever it was seemed…dangerous. Possibly that was what he lacked on his previous escape attempts- someone dangerous on his side.

"I hear a story there. Care to share? Tales of roasted templars just happen to be my favorite bedtime stories, just so you know." He smiled appealingly, but she shook her head.

"Maybe another time. Would you like some tea? I also have bread and stew if you're hungry."

"Tea sounds great. I managed to grab a bite earlier at the pub."

Hawke moved to the stove, placing wood inside and starting a flame, while Anders looked around. The space was neat and sparsely furnished, holding a table and chairs in the kitchen nook and what looked to be two small sleeping chambers on either side of the main living space. There were few personal affects, and nothing magical that would give away any secrets. Smart.

"Do you live in Amaranthine, or are you just passing through, like me?"

Her back was to him while she was putting the kettle on the small stove, and he took the opportunity to appreciate her curvaceous hips and the way her trousers clung to her generous backside. She turned and caught him staring, then smiled and turned to grab two cups from the wash stand.

"I've been here nearly a year living with Ella, but I think it may be time for me to move on. I'm careful, but I have seen more templars in the area of late."

"Ah," he said apologetically, "they're probably looking for me."

She walked toward him and stopped close enough for him to smell her.

Lavender? Nice.

Hawke stared into his eyes as though she were trying to see into his soul, her gaze assessing. He stared back, crossing his arms, his muscles bulging with the movement. He lifted a brow. He wasn't going to be intimidated by this woman….much.

The kettle boiled, and she tore her gaze away and went to pour the water, then puttered around in another cupboard. After a moment, she handed him a cup, and gestured for him to sit. She sat on a chair opposite him, and set her tea on the table.

"So," she began, finally breaking the silence, "how would you like to be rid of templars hunting you? Permanently."

He laughed as though she had asked if he would like to become the richest man in Ferelden.

"I would, of course." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I'm actually in the process of making inquiries regarding the location of my phylactery. I've learned they moved them away from Denerim during the Blight." She was shaking her head while he was speaking. "What, you don't think I should try to find it?"

"I have a way around it, when the opportunity presents itself, but I will need something from you closer to the time."

"I have a little money, but very little else beyond my personal affects here." He patted the small satchel across his back.

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I don't need money. Do you have a staff, or did you have to leave it behind?"

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "I hid it in the woods outside of town. It should be fine there." He was quiet for a beat while he sipped his tea, then he grinned. "Hey, you make your tea exactly the way I like it- milk with just a bit of sweetener."

She smiled down at her boots. "Imagine that," she murmured.

"So what's your story, then?" He stretched his long legs in front of him and slouched down more comfortably in the chair. "Did you run away from one of the Circles too?"

She ran her fingers through her messy fringe to get it out of her eyes, not missing the way his eyes followed the movement.

"No, I'm a lifelong apostate. My father was in the Circle in Kirkwall before he escaped and ran off to marry my mother. I lost my family to the Blight." Her gaze clouded over for a moment. "I've spent my entire life hiding, and I'm quite good at it."

He winked. "I'm really good at escaping, so maybe we could trade our skills."

She swirled the tea in her cup and looked up, her expression pensive. "Where are you headed?"

"I thought I might make for the Free Marches. I have heard there are a good many Ferelden refugees in Kirkwall. It might be an idea to go there and blend in."

"No!"

Hawke blushed at her outburst. "What I mean is, my mother's family is from there, and I've heard that city is unusually difficult for mages. Tranquility is sometimes forced on a mage the templars decide is trouble. I urge you never to go there. There are rumors. You can ask Ella about it when she gets back. She is meeting another runaway from Kirkwall tonight."

Anders looked stunned, then angry. "Truly? They make tranquils just because they can? That's barbaric, not to mention illegal! Mages who have passed their harrowing aren't supposed to be made tranquil."

She nodded, agreeing with his anger and his words. "I'm looking for someplace to go too, but I won't consider Kirkwall. For any reason."

Setting his empty mug down, Anders leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "I suppose if we're both confused, we might consider traveling together. Nothing more effective than the blind leading the blind, right?"

Hawke smiled mysteriously. "You don't even know me. What makes you think traveling with me would be wise?"

"I'm an excellent judge of character." He began ticking things off on his fingers. "You're beautiful, you're smart, you're an apostate who's really good at hiding, you smell like lavender, you're also beautiful. Did I happen to mention you were gorgeous?"

She shook her head, laughing softly. "Maker's breath, you really are quite a flirt. More than I would have ever expected."

"Why were you…" He rolled his eyes, the answer obvious. "Right. Ella. I forgot how girls like to gossip." He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "I suppose she told you I was frightfully handsome too, so you knew to grab me when you saw me."

She laughed again and bit her lip. "Um, no. I was focused on your energy, not your looks." As distracting as they may be, she thought.

When he looked at her like she was crazy, she set her own mug aside and leaned forward. "Shall I demonstrate in reverse so you can feel me?"

"I don't think I would have any problem feeling you, dear Hawke, if you come sit on my lap," he purred suggestively. He smiled invitingly and patted his knee. She looked dumbfounded.

"Andraste's flaming sword! Are you really so free with your affections, or do you just like to flirt?"

"Affections should always be free…unless you're a whore, in which case there's nothing wrong with charging, I suppose." He shrugged his big shoulders.

She ignored his words and put a hand to her chest just where the blood pendant rested, and amplified her energy onto Anders. His eyes narrowed, then he placed a hand on his suddenly pressure filled chest hesitantly, mirroring her.

"That's you?" he asked curiously. She nodded and drew herself back in.

"I'm wearing a pendant that dampens me, or you likely would have sensed my aura more strongly before now."

He scooted to the edge of his seat, leaning further toward her.

"Can I see?"

She bit her lip and pulled it out from beneath her tunic. He stared at it, his eyes flicking back and forth between the necklace and her face, his expression suddenly guarded.

"You're a blood mage," he said in a neutral voice.

She made an irritated gesture with her hand. "No. I'm a mage, period. I know one or two blood magic spells, but it's not my focus." She smiled reassuringly. "I can cast a fairly effective healing spell, and I have, many times, but I'm no spirit healer."

Anders looked confused. "Then where do your primary talents lie? For instance, what's your strongest spell?"

Hawke tapped her lip thoughtfully for a moment. "From destruction magic, I have more than one, but probably firestorm or tempest, or something from force magic. What about you? Do you know any offensive spells?"

"I can cast a pretty mean fireball or ice spell. How can you be proficient with several schools of magic if you weren't Circle trained? Did your father teach you?"

She nodded. "Some. I learned all my elemental spells from him. The rest, I taught myself from various tomes I have happened across over the years. I might teach you what I know if you're interested in learning."

She smiled seductively, and Anders decided now might be a good time to push his luck. He leaned far enough forward to grab her hand and bring it against his lips. He brushed his mouth slowly against her knuckles, watching as she watched him like a…well, like a hawk.

"Hawke," he breathed against her hand.

"Yes?" She cleared her throat quietly, annoyed by her breathy tone. This Anders was different than what she expected, and it made her feel off balance. Justice had apparently changed him more than she had ever realized. Perhaps she never really knew him, she thought with a pang.

"Is that really what you're called? No other name?" He bit down gently on one of her knuckles and she closed her eyes and shuddered. He smiled against her hand.

Sensitive, this one. My favorite.

"My given name is Marian. Hawke is my family name. My mother was an Amell."

He tilted his head curiously. "Amell? Like the Hero of Ferelden?"

"Yes. He's my cousin, I believe."

"Interesting."

He turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to her palm, flicking his tongue against the sensitive center.

"Anders?"

"Mhhh?"

She sighed again and forced her eyes open.

"Are you trying to seduce me, or is this just your version of a casual conversation?"

He looked up with a smile and sucked on the tip of her index finger.

"What would you like it to be, Marian?"

"I would like an honest answer to my question."

His eyes warmed further and his voice dipped lower. "I'm trying very hard to seduce you. Is it working?"

She pursed her lips, considering. "Possibly. I should probably tell you something first."

He chuckled nervously. "Please don't tell me you already have a lover, or I'm liable to spend the entire night whimpering in the corner."

She stood and walked around the table, distantly wondering what the blazes she was doing. She stood between his open legs, looking down on him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer. She rested one hand lightly on his shoulder, and caressed the gold ring in his ear with her other hand, unable to keep herself from touching him. It had been so long… One small touch can't hurt.

"I like the earring," she said quietly.

Anders relaxed and smiled. "That's all you wanted to tell me? You had me worried."

"That isn't what I was going to tell you."

He pulled her down to sit on his leg, and moved closer to kiss her.

"I wanted to tell you that I already know what you're like in bed." Just before their lips met he stopped, smiling in amusement.

"What? How? You can't possibly know that. I've never slept with Ella."

The door handle turned and Hawke stood, moving away slightly.

"Later," she mouthed, as Ella came through the door with a mousy looking girl that Hawke took to be the mage from Kirkwall.

"Oh, you found Anders, Hawke, thank the Maker! There are so many templars about, I had to take Nora the long way round."

Anders stood and gave Ella an enthusiastic hug. "You haven't changed a bit, young lady. Still dragging in lots of strays, I see." He winked at the younger, mousy mage, then turned his attention back to Ella who was shaking her head and laughing.

"You haven't changed either, Anders. Still leaving a stream of templars in your wake."

Hawke had come to speak quietly to Nora and offered her tea and stew, just as she had with Anders. Nora accepted with a grateful nod, and Hawke led her to the table. Anders couldn't stop his eyes from following Hawke as she walked, and Ella gave him a knowing smile.

He grinned at being caught. "What can I say? They're like possessive lovers, they just don't know when to let go."

Hawke set food in front of Ella then came to stare at him with her arms crossed.

"More like you don't know how to change," she said, her eyes running over his fancy robes again. "Speaking of which, come with me please."

Anders glanced inquisitively between Hawke and Ella, and the older woman waved him away. "Listen to her. She knows what she's doing, Anders."

Hawke beckoned him to follow her into one of the small rooms, and he walked close behind her. She pushed the door mostly closed and pulled garments off the hook on the back, and shoved them into his arms.

"What do you want me to do with these?" He asked in confusion.

She scoffed in exasperation. "Are you really this naïve? You can't go around in robes any longer and stay free, Anders. You stick out like a sore thumb."

He looked at the rough clothing and sighed. "I suppose you're right." His smile turned cheeky. "I think you giving me ugly clothes to wear could be because you want to hide how handsome I am and keep me all to yourself, eh?"

She nodded, deadpan. "Certainly. I intend to turn you into my trained sex slave, and can't be bothered scaring other women off. Get changed and I'll wait for you out here."

He grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving. "What if I need a bit of help? Robes can be tricky."

She lowered her gaze to focus on their joined hands, a silly little smile on her face. "Not as tricky as the mages they contain."

She withdrew her hand and slipped out the door, pulling it closed behind her. Anders couldn't stop his grin.

Oh, this will be fun.

~o~