Chapter Five

It wasn't easy being old. The crackling bones, and the ease at which tiredness seemed to creep up on you during your twilight years. Despite being restlessly active, the need for a nap or to sit quietly never sat particularly well with the elderly mage who was currently occupying the seat across from the empty Knight Captain's desk, arms crossed and openly displaying her displeasure at being left waiting for this scheduled meeting. Templar or no, showing up late for an appointment was blatant rudeness in her opinion.

Setting her annoyance aside-another irritable trademark of the elderly, she certainly didn't have the time or patience for nonsense as much as she used to-she took in her surroundings for the umpteenth time in the past ten minutes.

The office was not especially lavish, but it held a certain tidiness that the woman presumed was due more to obsessive compulsion than an actual desire to have things in order. Large leather tomes lined the shelves that had been built into the study wall, if the spines were any indication, they were all either tomes on Chantry doctrine or theological law, and most-if not all-appeared to have been written by Orlisean authors.

There was only one painting, which hung behind the desk which she was currently sitting in front of, which depicted in excruciating detail the burning of Andraste, Tevinter mages standing the pyre with hands outstretched towards the sky, apparently reveling in the sacrifice of the heretic barbarian bride. Disgusted, the woman averted her eyes from the gruesome piece of artwork and intently focused on memorizing the grain of the desk as she waited.

It was several more minutes before the Knight Commander finally made her entrance, and the old woman idly wondered if the Commander ever removed her red coil even indoors, but set the thought aside as the younger woman took her seat at the desk.

"I see you arrived here on time. Good for you." the commander opened up the file before her and scanned its contents. "What business do you have here in Kirkwall mage?"

Not even an apology? Templars could certainly be crass or rude, but at least the ones at the Ferelden circle maintained a mask of civility when speaking to the mages. Well, two could play at that game, and she certainly wasn't going to waste her good manners on someone who obviously had never learned any of their own.

"As you can see from the copies of the documents I handed your secretary, I have no need to explain my business to you." replied the mage, leaning back in her chair. "My announcing my presence was an act of politeness; not a necessity, as is my keeping my lodgings at the Chantry instead of at a local tavern." when the Meredith only glared the old woman simply smiled and continued. "If you think my lodgings are inadequate, I suggest you take the matter up with the Grand Cleric Elthina, who arranged them with me in the first place."

"Be that as it may, you will be required to have a Templar escort if you are to go gallivanting around my city." sneered the Commander. "Someone of your... political importance must be kept safe no matter the cost."

"While I appreciate your desire to ensure my safety, I can handle myself quite well enough, so I must refuse your offer of an escort." The old mage smiled, pushing her gray hair back behind her ear. "I'm sure those who receive my reports would not like to hear that their ambassador was being mistreated while she waits for her boat to return home, don't you think so? Especially since both you and I know you were contacted regarding this delicate situation before I began my journey here from Tevinter."

The Knight Commander simply glared as the elderly mage stood up and took her leave without waiting for permission.

"I shall remember this meeting mage." called the commander as the elderly woman closed the door behind her, making her way to have a few words with the First Enchanter Orsino before she took her final leave of this prison.

Nor will I. Thought the woman, looking over her shoulder at the doorway as she walked down the hall. Nor will I.

Oh yes, this particular visit was shaping up to be quite interesting indeed.

~2~

"Darling, are you sure you should be going out tonight? You've been looking peaky these past few days, perhaps you should rest." Hawke rolled her eyes as she fastened the corset of her dress into place.

"I'm fine mother, it is just a spring chill." True she had been coughing lately, and the disaster that had taken place at the Lowtown with the insane elf who seemed to be hell-bent on poisoning everyone to death probably didn't help matters. But she had hardly inhaled any of the gas, and nobody else who had gone with her was sick, so while she had been feeling a bit under the weather, it wasn't anything to be particularly concerned about. It was more likely due to stress and the late nights she had been keeping.

"I promise I'll only stay for the dinner and come back home early." She finally relinquished. It wasn't like she had any particular interest in this social gathering anyway. "I'll get some extra sleep and I'll stay curled up in bed tomorrow and read for awhile, and I promise not to get snappy with Bodahn if he fusses over me." But Leandra wasn't convinced.

"I still think you should go visit Serah Anders and ask his opinion. Perhaps I'll ask him if I could check up on you tonight after you return, just to be sure." Hawke rolled her eyes and adjusted her belt.

"Whatever you feel is best Mother. But I have to go, I'm already late." She blew a kiss at her mother before taking the light coat that Bodahn was holding out for her.

"Just in case you feel cold Messere." he called after her before going about whatever business he needed to attend to.

The sun had already begun to set, and the air felt sharp in her lungs. Coughing once Hawke made her way the few blocks to the estate where the small party was taking place.

At the very least the food would make her feel better.

It wasn't until dinner was halfway over that she knew that something had gone terribly wrong. It felt as though something or someone had reached into her chest and had iron fisted grip around her lungs.

"Messere, are you okay?" the hostess made her way to her seat, a look of worry coloring her face. "You're so pale!" When the young woman began to swoon, falling from her chair the hostess cried hysterically, "Beale get the cart! We must take Serah Hawke home immediately and call a doctor to her estate!"

Hawke tried to muster up the energy to protest, but the best she could muster in the form of a reply was a pathetic mewling groan as the nobles around her bundled her into the coach, servants already busting off to locate the nearest doctor.

"What is it? Could it be the plague again?" murmured voices around her, but they were caught in a continuous swirl that overtook her mind like a tidal wave, and caught in the middle of the torrent she slowly began to succumb to the desirable peace of unconsciousness.

Between the sister-like states of awake and sleep, where the lines of reality were so hopelessly blurred she could no more feel her body than the arms wrapped tightly around her to keep her from jostling during her tumultuous trip, transporting her to places unknown to her fever-blurred mind, Hawke could feel herself being held tightly by unseen arms.

Half asleep, half fever dream, she saw two chips of ice staring at her, their gaze flowing around her in an almost electric dance that shivered along her body yet held her tightly and protectively. But within their desperate desire to shield her she could also feel a cold, brewing rage growing with herself located in the eye of the storm, it was an anger that she never knew could exist, it went beyond hot fury, beyond the desire to reach out and tear an enemy from limb to limb, this feeling-this being would destroy everything in its wake without hesitation if it felt that it's prize was threatened.

Stay with me. Crooned a voice in the back of her mind, a beautiful angelic sound that washed through her body and spirit, wrapping itself around the tenuous line that kept her soul bound to flesh.

Who are you? She thought desperately, mentally reaching out for the something just beyond her grasp, and crying out when it shied away from her. Don't leave me. She begged.

We will not leave you. But you must rest, you must save your strength human. It growled softly as she felt a tendril of awareness probe her tattered body, pressing into her chest. We will keep you safe, and we will sustain you until those who will help you arrive.

Satisfied with the answer yet unsure exactly why, Hawke relaxed her mind and let the beings take quiet stock of her without complaint or defiance, and let herself be coaxed into a deep dreamless sleep.

~3~

If this continued much longer the tiny scraps he had chocked down for dinner would become nothing more than a foul smell in the toilet. The grasping scrabbling inside of his head felt as though his mind was being cloven into small pebbles.

He couldn't make the pain go away, not with healing magic or even a potent restorative brew that was the de-facto standard in his arsenal for dealing with migraines. The headache had been steadily increasing since that morning, gnawing at his mind and making him completely unable to concentrate on any task he attempted to set before himself.

Justice had said nothing about their current situation-in fact he had remained relatively quite regarding their physical only response he could receive from the spirit was a growing sense of urgency and a desire to move, but to where the mage couldn't fathom.

It was around the time he had attempted to contact Justice-again-that Leandra burst into his clinic, which was thankfully empty save the few volunteers who were busy cleaning the small space.

"Anders!" the woman gasped, still dressed in her finery, face white as a statue of Andraste. "You have to help me, She-my daughter-she collapsed." choked sobs wracked her the elder woman's thin body. "She is barely breathing! Nobody is sure whats wrong!"

Forgetting the pain in his head the mage rushed the woman, grabbing her shoulders and fighting the urge to shake her.

"Where is she?" he asked hurriedly, the question more of a growl than a soothing attempt to calm a terrified mother.

"In her room. She was attending a party and collapsed, the family brought her back home."

A million things rushed through his mind, poison being itself to the forefront. Without even realizing his feet were moving he had already bolted towards the entrance to the cellar, and if he didn't know any better he would have sworn that every step closer he came to Hawke's bedroom caused his headache to ease.

When he finally burst through the door and saw her laid out on the bed he realized for the first time that there were far greater fears in this world than one's own personal demise. Slowly, carefully he maneuvered himself to her side, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest against the bedsheets, her breath coming out an a slow rasp through her chapped lips.

He reached a hand out slowly, a gentle blue light emanating from his fingertips as he rested his hand on her bosom, probing for the cause of her ailment.

The complexity of the damage was absolutely staggering. The fact that Hawke wasn't already dead spoke volumes about the strength of the woman laying before him.

Veins and arteries were on the verge of collapsing, her heart was pumping poisoned blood through her body, and her lungs...

"Blessed Andraste." Anders' gasped. They were in tatters. Whatever poison had been coursing through her veins had been slowly shredding the tissues of her lungs, leading to a growing infection. "You stupid woman." He growled. "Why didn't you come to me when you first knew something was wrong?"

The mage closed his eyes against his growing fear and remembered his instructor's lecture about healing when there were multiple ailments to deal with.

"Take each step one at a time. Start at the basics. What is causing all of the trouble with the patient first and foremost? There is no point in healing a person's throat when the damage is being caused by vomiting if you haven't settled the patent's stomach."

Blood first. He had to purge the poison from her blood before he had any hope of curing the rest of the damage she was suffering from.

His mind set in it's resolve. Anders began preparing the area for his work, and screaming for Bodahn to run for the necessary supplies.

~4~

It was so familiar it was almost eerie. The pressure of stone against her hip, the ache of knowing you've done something incredibly stupid, and the swirling headache that informed you that whatever idiocy you had gotten yourself into was somehow related alcohol consumption.

But she was dead. Surely you couldn't feel pain when you were dead.

Groaning, Hawke attempted to push herself up into a sitting position. The hard stone slab that she was laying on wasn't particularly comfortable, nor was the nagging suspicion that her every move was being watched.

"She wakes." Came an amused familiar voice. It would have been comforting if it hadn't felt like it was booming at her from every direction.

"Justice?" She groaned. "What are you doing here? Am I in the Fade?" reaching up to grab her arms, she noticed that she wasn't clothed and quickly pulled her knees up to cover her nakedness.

"Not the Fade. We would not take you there without your consent. Instead we helped you retreat further within yourself, where the pain would not consume you." The spirit paused for a moment. "And so you could deal with another matter."

"You possessed me?" she cried incredulously, looking around in every direction. "Where are you?"

"We did not posses you, we simply linked our mine with yours, It is more of an advanced awareness of one another than an actual intrusion of your mind." The spirit paused again. "I can show myself to you, but it might be a bit unsettling."

"I'll take my chances." Hawke replied, adding a bit of snap into her voice and instantly regretting it when a sharp pain dug into her lungs.

He appeared at first as a wisp that slowly began to take shape. A body, then armor began to cloak the translucent skin, what originally began as something blue and mystical slowly began to darken as if it was being slowly taken over by a dark and dangerous taint.

"This is what I am... or rather what I am becoming." The spirit began slowly, blue chips that she assumed were his eyes burning beyond the helmet. "You are aware of the mage Anders' internal struggle against himself. A fight that he is slowly losing."

"I thought the fight was to wrestle control over you, to keep you from overtaking his mortal form."

"Then you misunderstand." The spirit spoke. "Alone I am but a passing stream of subconscious, I do not move to the forefront of Anders' mind unless beckoned to do so. This... other half of my existence is brought forth during times of great duress of emotional pain. It's presence is unwelcome in the shared space that Anders' has allowed me exist in."

"Then what part of you is the one that takes over Anders' and makes him fear becoming close to me. Or is it all of you that denies him the right to be with the person he loves?" Hawke asked bitterly.

"Make no mistake. Anders' infatuation with you does irk us, his affection for you takes his thoughts away from the task at hand. But we would not deny our host the opportunity to explore his own feelings and emotions, to do so would make us tyrants. Anders' decision to remain apart from you is his own choice, and in all things regarding you Hawke, he keeps his own council."

Hard to argue when the truth came straight from the Spirit's mouth. As much as she loathed to admit it to herself, she knew Justice was no liar. If this paragon of fairness and right told her a fact she would simply have to believe it, no matter how terribly the truth tore at her heart.

"But we are not here to discuss your relationship with our host." Continued the spirit. "We are here to discuss that." Slowly, deliberately, the spirit raised one armored hand to point at the woman's chest, and when she looked down Hawke could barely stifle a choked scream of shock.

Her chest was ravaged, large bloody pieces of flesh hung from the exposed bone, and a thick seeping pus oozed out from under what skin remained.

"What is it." She cried, raising her hands to cover her tattered flesh, but unable to bring her hands to press against it. "How did this happen?"

"It is a poison. But it is more venomous and potent than even the deadliest assassin can concoct. You have poisoned your own soul Serah, and if you wish to live, we must purge it from you, or I am afraid you will never be able to return to the waking world."

She wasn't used to such gatherings. Generally when everyone managed to meet up it was at the Hanged Man, or even at Anders' clinic, as far as she was aware there had never been a time where everyone had come together at Hawke's estate, but from what she understood the situation was quite dire, and nobody wanted to be far away in case they were needed at a moment's notice.

Despite the fact that everyone was here, nobody was interested in talking. Not even Varric, who had come by her home at the Alienage to bring her to the estate. From what she understood Hawke was seriously ill, but if Mr. Anders' was with her she would be fine wouldn't she? No keeper she had ever come in contact with had such a firm grasp of the healing arts as he did.

Scanning the room Merrill let out a sigh before returning her gaze to the top of the staircase. What would happen if Hawke were to die? Would Varric still make sure she was safe in her home? Would Aveline still stop by once or twice a week to check up on her and make sure her letters were delivered to the Dalish camp? Would Isabella continue to spend time with her at the Tavern? Everyone here would never have met or come together if not for Hawke, if something were to happen would they all still interact with one another? They were the closest thing that she had to family now. The thought of being without them in Kirkwall was horrifying.

The young elf was so enraptured with her own line of thought she hadn't realized that someone had entered the house until Orana announced the hooded woman's presence.

"There is a Mistress Wynne here, she says she was contacted to help with Messere Hawke." announced the young housekeeper.

"No child. That is not entirely accurate." Sighing the elderly woman removed her hood, thin lips curled into a slight understanding smile. "I was originally contacted to meet with Messere Hawke, but when a young noble lad came screaming into the chantry that a young noble woman was dying and that a priest and healer were needed I volunteered my services to assist her. When I found out who the young woman was, I decided that in order to keep my aforementioned appointment I best hurry my old bones along."

Fenris growled and began to make a comment regarding mages, but Isabella managed to shove her fist into his side before the words ever left his mouth.

"Wynne? The Wynne? Who assisted the Hero of Ferelden against the blight?" Varric stammered and looked upon the elderly mage in awe.

"I think she prefers to go by Lady Theirin when she is not being addressed formally." Replied the woman with a good natured laugh. "The poor dear has so many titles that it is hard to keep up with all of them."

"But what in Andraste's name are you doing in Kirkwall?" Varric finally demanded, taking a step forward.

"Like I said, I was asked to meet Messere Hawke as per her request. I recently finished some business in Tevinter and agreed to meet with her before boarding my ship to return home." looking over at Fenris' growling form she returned her gaze back to the dwarf unperturbed. "If she is indeed gravely ill I think I should be shown to her room, I know more than a little about healing magic and if I could be of some use I would be more than happy to offer my services."

"You will not take one step-" began Fenris before Isabella punched in the side again.

"Shut up will you." snapped the pirate as she shoved the elf into the adjoining study and closed the door behind them.

"Mr. Anders is currently upstairs with Hawke." began Merrill, taking a step towards the woman. "We haven't heard anything from him since we all arrived. But Mr. Bodahn tells us he is making progress whenever he has to run supplies in and out of the room and tells us not to worry." Which she thought meant that there was reason to worry, and the elven mage could almost swear she saw a flicker of recognition cross the older woman's face.

"You are Dailish are you not my dear?" The woman asked quietly. "And I can feel the aura of magic in you. Why are you not upstairs helping your friend?" Merrill's cheeks burned hot against her skin.

"Mr. Anders... does not approve of me. If he needs me he knows that I am here to help, but until then I think I would only cause him anger or be a distraction." the elderly woman rested her hand on the elf's shoulder.

"If we need you I will call for you. Be ready in just in case." and without another word the woman made her way up the steps and spoke softly with Leandra before entering the bedroom that had so recently turned into a sickroom.

"What do you mean it is a poison of the soul?" Hawke gasped against the pain crushing against her chest.

"All of your hate, your rage, and the guilt you have carried inside of you and harmed yourself with for all of these years has crippled you. Now it is fighting against your very being in an attempt to claim control over you. If you don't expel it now it will consume you. You will then only be a shadow of who and what you really are, and not only your dreams, but also your future will be torn away from you in the process."

"And why do you care about my dreams or my future." She spat at the spirit. "What do otherworldly beings care about my person?"

"We care because you have a destiny to fulfill, there are things beyond the scope of Kirkwall, and even beyond the borders of the Free Marshes and even the waking realm that depend upon your survival this night. You cannot die Hawke." the spirit added almost sadly. "Your death would put into effect a chain of events that will cause the deaths of countless innocents, there is no Justice in this."

"What do you mean?" she pressed, doubling over herself as another wave of pain encircled her.

"I cannot say to you specifically. But there are ripples in the Black City, and all who walk the Fade are aware of great change coming, and you are one of the catalysts for this change." Blue chips of ice stared into her soul before he continued. "Do you wish my assistance or not?"

"Tell me what to do." Hawke finally replied.

"That festering in your chest is a physical representation of your hatred and self loathing, you must forgive yourself for those you could not save, for those whom you have carried a burden for being unable to help. Tell me their names."

Unable to look the spirit in the eye, Hawke closed her eyes and for a split second, could see a young boy with dark hair and blue eyes, glaring at her over the hilt of a wooden sparring stick.

"Carver. I couldn't save Carver." she gasped as her chest burned, and a sickly yellow liquid spilled out from her ripped flesh and stained the stone slab beneath her. "He was my younger brother and I couldn't protect him from something as insignificant as a troll."

"He made a mistake, he rushed an enemy without thinking. That is not your fault."

"He was my little brother. I taught him how to fight. I should have been able to stop him." Choking out a sob, Hawke ran a hand over her eyes.

"But the fault was his own. You are not responsible for the actions of others. You have carried this pain for long enough, forgive yourself and let him go. Let his spirit rest without your regrets. Mourn his loss and continue to love him, but this self hatred is nothing he would wish upon you."

Knowing that the spirit spoke the truth, Hawke took a deep breath and sighed out her guilt, and the pain in her chest eased slightly.

"Another name." spoke the spirit, and Hawke closed her eyes again, and before she could stop herself she started spilling out more names. Bethany and her regrets for not protecting her sister from the Circle of Magi; Fenris and her inability to help him work through his pain and hatred; Merrill and being unable to help her sweet and caring friend; her father and being unable to find a proper healer to save him; Being unable to properly care for her mother until recently and causing her pain by being unable to protect her siblings.

With each name she spoke more putrid liquid spilled out from her chest, releasing more and more pain from her heart as she purged the wounds of her soul.

"The wound is almost clean." Spoke the spirit with soft understanding. "But you are not yet done."

I suppose some things never change. Wynne thought to herself with a smile as she looked upon her old protege standing over the young woman on the bed, so focused on the task at hand that he didn't even realize she had entered the room.

"Anders." the old mage called fondly. "I had thought we wouldn't meet again... at least not without you being dragged back into the circle in shackles." Startled at the familiar voice Anders turned to look at the woman, his face haggard and pinched.

"If you are here to escort me back I'm afraid you will have to wait until I'm done here. I don't have the time to fool with Templars and false sincerity for my well being." he turned back to the woman before him. "There are far more precious things at stake than dragging off another worthless mage to the tower."

"I'm not here to return you to the circle my dear." Wynne said as she made her way to the other side of the bed, ignoring the other mage's growl as she scanned the woman's body with her hands. "I'm here to help the friend of a friend." Wynne's eyes narrowed as she examined the damage. "You can't access her lungs, there is some type of barrier spell surrounding them."

"I know." Growled Anders as his hands traveled along Hawke's arms and abdomen working to repair collapsing veins as quickly as he could. "I can't get past it."

Confused, Wynne sent out a delicate probe towards the shield to ascertain exactly what it was and was met with a very strong felling of 'stay away' but she was still able to discern that while the damage was not being repaired, the lungs were still functioning and the protective coat around them was helping the young woman breathe.

"What caused the barrier Anders. This isn't your magic." the older mage asked peevishly as she began to focus her magical talents on the other side of the woman's battered body.

"I don't know." he growled, eyes never leaving Hawke's body as he worked. "But I'll deal with that problem once I've made sure the organs that are failing have been repaired."

You know you brat. Wynne thought to herself as she started returning the circulatory system to rights.

"I know you are upset about the situation. Just keep in mind that you need to leave your personal feelings at the door. Irritation or anger has no business in a sickroom, you will do nothing more than get in your own way, furthermore your anger will work counterproductively to the healing." Wynne said in her best stern-teacher-to-erring-student tone of voice, while the comment was meant to be assistive it only caused whatever restraint Anders had on his temper to finally snap.

"How can you expect me to not be upset!" He yelled at his former teacher. "She is dying."

"She isn't dying, silly child." Wynne scolded, not bothering to look up at the man glaring daggers at her. "By all rights she should have already died. But the simple fact of the matter is that with the exception of her lungs and re-directing this blood flow she will be absolutely fine in a few days time. Once the rest of this damage is repaired we can figure out how to penetrate the shield around her lungs and use what remaining tissue is left of the healthy tissue to regrow more."

"You can't regrow tissue with magic." Anders growled, returning his attention to the task at hand, eyebrows furrowed.

"Perhaps if you had spent more time in lessons than running away from them then you might have learned the technique. It is a difficult and time consuming process, and generally takes a great deal of magic to perform. But it is entirely possible as long as there is healthy tissue remaining to work with." Anders raised an eyebrow at the woman and said nothing more on the subject. Despite Wynne's bossy attitude and tendency to give advice where no advice was needed-or wanted-he had never known her as one to lie.

Anders returned his attention to the woman beneath his hands and desperately prayed that she would live to see him proved wrong.

Hawke stared down at her chest that was slowly mending itself as she slowly purged her soul of all of her guilt and self hatred. The wound was almost clean now, and she could breathe without pain. But there was still something trapped inside of her chest and she couldn't force it out.

"I don't know who the last name is." she finally spoke to the spirit standing over her. "I've listed everyone that I can think of."

"Then I will tell you." Justice bent before her sitting figure on the stone alter, blue eyes staring into her tired ones. "You have to forgive yourself. That is the last step." Hawke sputtered at the suggestion.

"I don't hate myself!" She recoiled, placing a hand over her chest as if to protect it, Justice reached up and tenderly removed her hand from the wound.

"Hate is perhaps to strong a word. But you do deny who and what you are. You fight against your own past which has shaped you into the woman you are now." Justice reached up slowly and pressed his spectral hand against her chest. "You can not deny your past, but you have to accept that it is over, done. Let the pain go and accept yourself."

In a rush she could see her life from her childhood to her years in Kirkwall flash through her mind. A young girl leaving behind friends to constantly move in order to protect her father and younger sister. A girl who finally decided that there was no real point in making friends with other children because they were so temporary and that it hurt too much to lose them and forcing herself into a lonely solitude full of bitterness and regret.

A child who played with swords and knives because she had been told since birth that it was her duty and responsibility to protect the family.

A 15 year old adolescent who murdered a Templar she suspected was stiffing around for her younger sister and discovering a locket containing portraits of the man's wife and child's inside and realizing that she was responsible for causing a child to grow up fatherless.

A teenager forced into hard labor in taverns and back alleys to raise enough money to feed her family and bribe people not to reveal her apostate sister.

An adult being blamed by her mother for her younger brother's death.

A woman being forced to work for a year with smugglers in order to gain enough money to get her mother into Kirkwall.

She had always convinced herself that while her life had been difficult, it could have been far worse, that she still had a much better life than the vast majority of people in Thedas, and had always told herself that feeling sorry about her lot in life would never change anything.

"I have been watching humans for quite some time. The biggest misconception you seem to have about one another is that there is a vast distance between each of you." He slowly reached into her chest and tugged hard, causing Hawke to gasp sharply. When he removed his armored hand a large black festering lump sat in his palm.

"I would not begin to say I understand the minds of your kind. They are a changing and fluid thing." he squeezed his hand tightly and a flash of light reduced the lump to a fine ash. "But you are a strong and loving woman Hawke. I think that is why you carry the burdens you carry, but you are going to have to accept the fact that humans have flaws. You can not expect yourself to be perfect. You are going to have to accept the fact that you will make many mistakes in your life. But you must learn to use them as an opportunity to grow and learn, and not let these mistakes cripple you."

Hawke raised a hand to her face and was almost surprised when she found a small wet sheen of tears staining her cheeks. She couldn't remember the last time she had ever allowed herself to cry.

"Thank you Justice." She said softly, reaching out and touching the side of the spirit's helmet. "For everything."

"We do what we must." Slowly he helped the woman recline back on the stone slab. She was completely spent from the emotional and spiritual purge of her soul, he rested a hand over her chest and she noticed another flash of light.

"What was that?" She asked softly, not really caring.

"I was simply removing a protective film from your lungs. Do not worry, the rest will be healed in a moment's time. But you must rest now and gather your strength... and deal with the consequences of scaring so many of your friends." Hawke smiled sheepishly.

"I'm going to get yelled at again aren't I?"

"Most certainly. It is my assumption that they only do that because they care about you." Justice sat beside her legs and looked at her.

"I know. That's why I put up with it. I like to be reminded that despite the fact that I can slay an Ogre with a pair of daggers and be regarded as some kind of hero that there are people who still see me as "Just Hawke" and will treat me like any other person that they care about."

"It is important to remember that you are simply human and not let pride take control over your heart." Justice paused for a moment before reaching out and touching her hand. "I will tell you one more thing before I return you to yourself. The mage Anders does love you, but he is trying to protect you. I do not think he can keep his feelings at bay much longer. If you remain patient with him, I strongly believe that he will eventually come to you and be your mate."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hawke asked softly, entwining her fingers with Justice's and making the conscious effort not to chide Justice for his choice of words.

"Anders and I are one now. This has brought about many changes in my being. Some for the worse... some I am quite fond of... but..." Justice started to trail off.

"Please don't hide anything from me." She asked softly, attempting to pull herself into a sitting position before being gently pressed back down against the stone by Justice's strong hands.

"He is starting to realize that he loves you with everything in him, and that is what scares him... the other part of our being... he was the one who originally established the connection with your mind in an effort to save you. You must protect yourself Hawke. If something were to happen to you the consequences of Vengence's rage would be catastrophic."

"I know that." She said softly, closing her eyes and re-wrapping her fingers with Justice's as she began to succumb to her body's desperate desire for a dreamless sleep. "I've always known that about him. Don't worry. I won't allow Anders' to lose himself."

The spirit sat beside the woman as he waited for her to ascend back to her own mind instead of this shared space, and for the first time since he had entered into the mortal world he felt the delightful thrill of knowing that he had done something completely and totally good.

Beneath his helmet the spirit smiled as he sat patiently as he slowly began the gentle ascension from Hawke's sleeping mind and back to the comfortable familiarity of Anders'.

~5~

Breathing a sigh of relief Ander's slumped over on the bed and pressed his forehead against Hawke's sweat sheened cheek. She was alive, and she was whole. When Justice's barrier around her lungs had dissipated the damage looked as though it had mostly mended itself, and the rest of the healing had been a quick and mostly painless affair.

Wynne busied herself with cleaning up the area and handing soiled towels to Bodan and explaining that she would need some help cleaning up the patient so that she could be bedded down in order to finish healing on her own.

"I'm sure you know the course of action from here on in Anders." Wynne said in her bossy teacher-to-student tone. "Three cups of healing brew a day until she is feeling in tip top shape. She will probably sleep through most of tomorrow which is to be expected. If she feels up to it she may walk around the estate but it is best she not venture outside for a few days. I'll be back tomorrow to check up on her." Anders couldn't help but look at his old teacher with reverence.

"Thank you Wynne... this means more to me than you could possibly imagine." The old woman smiled softly and reached over the bed to lay a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Love for a mage is never easy my dear. Especially when that mage is an apostate. But you have a rare opportunity that many of us wouldn't even dare to hope for. I desperately hope for your sake that you do not squander it." Wynne looked down at Hawke with pride. "She is a strong one, and she has a great deal of courage. I never thought I would meet another woman with so much to offer the world."

"I didn't either." Anders said with a smile, nuzzling Hawke's cheek. Wynne pursed her lips briefly.

"Did you ever feel the same way about the Warden Commander?" she asked softly as she brushed a stray hair away from her face.

"I thought I did at one point. I sometimes felt that I should have. She saved me from the Templar's and a certain execution. She gave me a rare opportunity to have a life outside of the circle. But being a Grey Warden to me was another kind of cage, and if given the choice between being an apostate or being a Grey Warden I would have chosen the former." Anders sat up and looked at Wynne. "I never fit at the circle like you did Wynne."

"Not many do. I respect that many people feel that mages should be feared, just like I respect the fact that many people fear darkspawn. I always assumed that being a good mage would help alleviate the fears of the populace. So I chose to be an example to those who did not understand magic. Now the King of Ferelden is doing the rest."

"Is he really planning on phasing out the Circle of Magi in Ferelden?"

"And replace it with a school for mages to go to learn their craft? Yes. He is certainly trying. But it is not a change that can be made overnight, and he is facing strong opposition. Orlais calls his preferential treatment towards mages something just shy of heresy and has made it clear that if he were to abolish the circle then they would be prepared to march on Ferelden in the name of the maker. His lovely wife has been seeking help from outside sources in order to help with the cause. Which is actually one of the reasons why I was going to speak with the Lady Hawke before returning to court."

"Hawke is helping King Theirin dispose of the Circle?"

"She is doing what she can. Hawke has more political pull than the vast majority of Nobles in Kirkwall, and she has the Viscount's ear. Her words hold a great deal of weight, not to mention the fact that she originally hails from Ferelden. When you pair this with the fact that she holds the sway over several city states outside Kirkwall and her status as a hero, she probably has more power over the entire Free Marshes than any one person in this region. From what I've gathered while traversing around Kirkwall, many of the common-folk would prefer to have her sitting on the Viscount's throne as opposed to Dumar, and the people here are ready to shake off the remains of Orlesian occupation, the Kingdom of Ferelden is interested in having an ally that also views Orlais in the same light as themselves. " Wynne smiled. "But that is something you should really be discussing with your lady. That being said you need to go bathe before you settle in with her."

"What?" Anders stood and moved away from Hawke so quickly it seemed as though he might have burned himself on the woman.

"She needs to stay warm Anders. You need to go bathe and then curl up beside her to make sure her body temperature remains slightly elevated so her she does not have to work so hard to produce her own heat."

"But... I... that's not..." Anders stammered as he looked down at Hawke's prone form, her chest rising and falling softly in a gentle tempo.

"For Andraste's sake Anders she will be dressed. Now get out of here and get cleaned up while we get her bathed."

Confused and more than a little unsettled. Ander's made his way downstairs. Everyone had apparently heard the news of Hawke's recovery and met his eyes with varying levels of approval and praise, and in Fenris' case: grim acceptance that the abomination had managed to do something right for once.

Leandra busied herself with arranging guest rooms for everyone while Anders hurried off to bathe and swiftly clothed himself in a small tunic and lounge pants that Bodahn had left out for him before making his way back upstairs to Hawke's room. Wynne was in the process of arranging the fresh blankets on the bed as he made his way over to their patient.

"There you are. Now you look vaguely like someone a woman would be happy to wake up beside." Wynne tucked the covers under the mattress before making her way to the door. "Just remember to snuggle close to her, and do get some rest my dear you look absolutely drained." the old woman giggled softly as she closed the bedroom door behind her, leaving Ander's standing beside Hawke's bedside and looking longingly at the covers he was about to climb into.

Get over it. He mentally shoot himself before pulling back a small triangle of blankets and crawling under the sheets. This is for warmth nothing more. Slowly he settled down against the soft mattress and maneuvered himself around the young woman, moving her right arm over her hip so he could press his body closer to hers, and resting his chin against her shoulder.

Maker's breath shes beautiful. He couldn't' stop the thought from forming in his mind as he watched her eyebrows furrow and felt her fingers twitch as she dreamed. He loved her desperately, but he didn't want to force her into a life of being tied to an apostate. He couldn't live without her but he knew the best thing he could do for her was to leave.

The idea of leaving hurt him more than his fear for her if he stayed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and kissed her shoulder softly, twining his fingers with hers and caught up in his own mind that he almost didn't hear her soft call.

"Anders." came a weak little sound by his forehead. He lifted his head and looked into Hawke's shining eyes.

"You should be resting." He scolded sharply, forgetting the fact that he was currently lying in bed with the barely clothed woman.

"You're upset." her eyes scanned the room for a moment before resting on him. "Why are you in my bed?" A million thoughts raced through his mind as a way to reply to her, but somehow he figured the truth was the best answer.

"To keep you warm." He said softly. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." she said slowly. "But... can I turn on my side? I don't like sleeping on my back so much." Anders helped her re-adjust herself so that her back was pressed firmly against his chest, very aware of what the feel of her body was doing to his.

"How are you feeling." He asked gently as he pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear before wrapping his arm back around her abdomine. "Are you in any pain?"

"No. I'm all better now." She yawned softly and slowly dozed back to sleep, griping the hand tightly in hers. "I'm whole again." she whispered.

Confused by her wording, the mage pressed his face into her hair and breathed in the scent of her before allowing himself to drift off to sleep, holding the only beacon of light in his life protectively in his arms.

The last thought that went through his mind before sleep finally claimed him was a simple word that encompassed his protective claim over the woman in his arms.

Mine.