Chapter 1

Magic Dust

His monocle shook as he put it to his eye.

"You can do it?" asked the dark woman standing before him. Her aura reeked with malice and evil; even his cheerful campfire seemed to dim in her presence.

"Well… it's a-a very difficult ritual," he stuttered out. "Not many people require magic this potent. I will need some very rare components, and it will be very, very expensi-"

He wasn't even able to finish his sentence before the woman dropped a bag on the ground before him. Diamonds spilled out, twinkling in the fire's low light. "There will be more – much more – when it's done. The Templars and Chantry will excuse your little magic shop, and it will thrive if you're smart about it. My master will be pleased that you have done this for him in his absence, and will make sure your meager dreams are aptly fulfilled."

Halbert's face fell, his usually kind eyes becoming stony as he realized there would be no denying this woman.

"I see you understand. Good. All of the supplies you need will be delivered once you reach Kirkwall. I will be outside the city awaiting its completion. Send word when it is done."

She left him then, followed by her shadowy soldiers, as he stood by his little campfire holding the slip of paper. A slip of paper that damned a free man to chains if he filled the order – but Halbert to death if he didn't.

.oO:OO:Oo.

Fenris watched Hawke move in front of him through the Hightown crowds. The midday sun was warm on his skin and calmed a bit of his nervousness from the pressing crowds. Servants and noblewomen were still wandering the markets' shops, their high little Orleisian shoes clicking on the cobblestones as they worried themselves over what scents and flowers to buy.

But Hawke cast a far fairer image than any of the done up noble women prancing about in their tight corsets and dresses. She didn't need unnatural powders to pale her skin, blushes to rosy her cheeks, or tints to redden her full, pouted lips. And her hips didn't need any tight contraption of whale bone and ribbons to flair pleasingly.

Fenris shifted, uncomfortable with where his thoughts had taken him.

It had been two years since the deep roads, and things hadn't changed much in Kirkwall. The mages and Templars were still at each others' throats and the Qunari showed no signs of leaving.

Life had changed drastically for Hawke and her companions, though. The Deep Roads had offered up unbelievable treasures, but it had also taken away things more valuable than any amount of gold. Hawke had lost her sister; Varric his brother. The two had lost parts of themselves in that darkness that could never be reclaimed, and Fenris knew that while they may have moved on from the grief, the wounds still festered.

But despite the loss they'd all gained something, too. A deep bond that hadn't existed before and whatever doubts Fenris had had about trusting Hawke had been lost in those tunnels. Somewhere in those winding halls of stone something had clicked into place within him. As they'd fought to survive that darkness a deep and desperate need to keep her safe had risen and the feeling had only become more intense once they'd reached the surface.

Things had gotten complicated with this new development. It was more than just trust that had grown. He'd become used to her company; there was hardly a job that he'd not gone on, and he was happy by her side. She was strong and bold, and intelligent. But she possessed a kindness, too, that Fenris had never experienced. Her light smiles and warm eyes fulfilled something he hadn't known had been missing from his life.

He'd become attached to the young woman, and now instead of wondering if he should leave the city, he wondered if he could.

Their escalating closeness terrified the wary elf.

So over the past couple of months he'd been trying to wean himself of her addictive company. He'd accepted fewer jobs, and didn't go to the Hanged Man as much. She'd started leaving the city this past year, venturing out farther and for longer periods of time. Before he had enjoyed the trips, but recently he'd stopped going with her, trying desperately to distance himself. But the harder he tried to ignore her, the harder it got to keep her out of his thoughts, and his plan to rid himself of his confusion only made it worse. It was very distressing.

Hawke was similarly confused. Now that they were settled into their family estate, her mother had been pushing for things Marian didn't really want to think about. Like marriage. She was the last of the Amell line capable of child bearing, and her mother wasted no breathe on letting her know just how much she wanted grandchildren. But no matter how many eligible and handsome suitors were invited to dinner, Hawke refused them all. Her mother was furious with her daughter's snubbing, and the two couldn't have a dinner without an argument for dessert.

So Hawke tried to avoid it. She took as many jobs as she could find, and spent as much time as possible outside the city. Often she'd stay out for weeks, sometimes travelling to other City-states and towns. The journeys satisfied her thirst for adventure, it was calming to be with her friends – and to get away from her mother's pestering.

Lately, though, her travels had lacked the sense of fulfillment she was used to. And she had a firm belief it had to do with the elf stalking behind her.

Despite his cold demeanor and hatred of all things magic, he'd become a very valued friend. When Bethany had died in the deep roads Varric had offered his support, but Fenris had been the one to carry them all past that tragedy, pushing them forward and out of that dark hell; he was the reason they were still alive. His voice was always one of reason, he never strayed from the course he knew was right, and over the past year he'd been a staple during her journeying. He'd become her rock.

She had a sneaking suspicion that he could be much more, too. He was still quiet most of the time, but his scowls held none of their previous animosity. Occasionally she'd catch a tenderness in his gaze that surprised her. Those looks thrilled her more than any of the frivolous, incessant flattery from her numerous suitors and Hawke had found herself tentatively hoping that something would come of the surprisingly heated looks.

But as soon as they'd appeared, Fenris had disappeared. To Marian it was a sure sign that he had no want to pursue anything, so she hadn't pressed the matter, despite the utter disappointment. But lately he'd become more and more distant, and while Hawke could give up on the idea of any romance, she would not give up his friendship.

So she'd decided to do something drastic that was sure to get his attention.

She'd invited Anders and Merril to go to the new Trinkets Imporium that had opened in Hightown.

The store promised wonders of all shapes, sizes, and excitement; all of them precious – and all of them magical. And while she was no mage, Hawke was eager to see what that promise meant.

Fenris was not.

But there was no way Fenris was about to leave Hawke alone with the two mages in a store where they could find horrors unheard of…she shouldn't be alone with the abomination at all as far as he was concerned.

And Hawke knew it.

Her smug little grin in the face of his horrified scowl when she'd shown up at his mansion this morning proved it. And while he was furious with her little manipulation, his anger could not hold up in the face of her joy when he'd accepted. Even if he wouldn't admit it, her absence had been hard on him, and he was disappointed that she would feel the need to trick him into spending time with her.

And that she would want that time to be spent in a magic shop. And with mages.

It wasn't what he'd been expecting after she'd returned from her latest outing, and he felt foolish for his hopes of...something other than this.

It made no sense to Fenris. Kirkwall was a city that feared mages and magic. He didn't understand how a shop like this could function outside the gallows and outside Templar control. But it was doing more than just functioning. It was flourishing. Its magical little trinkets and special perfumes and potions were the talk of the town.

Fenris found that very, very suspicious.

But as they wove their way through the Hightown crowds it was clear none of the others shared his trepidations. Merril chatted incessantly, wondering aloud if she'd find any lost artifacts of ancient Elvin culture. Anders walked too close to Hawke. And Hawke was…smiling.

Fenris felt an inexplicable sinking feeling as he watched her turn her warmth to the abomination. Anders had not accompanied her on her last journey either, and apparently the distance had only made her grow fonder of the mage. While she and Fenris had drifted.

He tried to ignore it, but the realization dampened his already dour mood.

The sight of the shop soured him even more. This was not what he'd been hoping for when Hawke returned from this last trip. It had been the second one he'd not gone on, and long, but he'd awaited her return eagerly. He wasn't sure what he'd hoped for over the past couple of weeks, but it definitely was not this.

The high pitched bell that jangled when they opened the door had him gritting his teeth. The sight inside had him grinding them.

There could be no doubt that this was a magic shop. Things glowed, things floated, and things made little funny noises when you passed them. And while Fenris hated every second of it, the others loved it. Merril went through everything with the speed and tact of a hurricane. Hawke was more reserved, sniffing at incense and herbs. Anders was eyeing the potions.

Love potions.

Fenris cast his coldest glare at the hated abomination, who ignored him completely as he read the different effects quietly under his breath. But Fenris heard every word and his ears burned – whether from anger or embarrassment he wasn't sure. That mage would not be walking out of that shop with anything!

There were few customers this time of day, and it wasn't long before they were the only ones left.

As the little bell rang behind the last customer, the owner of the shop stepped out from behind the counter. It was clear from the mark on his forehead he was tranquil, lacking the quick temperament and free mind which made mages so dangers. While he trusted tranquil mages slightly more than free-willed ones, Fenris was not comfortable when the man stepped up to Hawke, his eyes blank and staring. The elf quietly went to her side, full of suspicions.

"Hello, Serah," greeted the man. "Are you enjoying the shop this evening?" His voice lacked any definable accent, and was even and calm. A curious Anders and Merril joined them, eager to meet the bold man willing to run a magic shop in Kirkwall, but as soon as Anders saw the mark of tranquility his expression darkened.

He shook his head, his handsome face full of regret. "Tranquil…" he whispered morosely.

There was a pause, but Fenris noted the shop keep's gaze was not so blank anymore, but sharp and intense. "Apostates?" the man gasped. He pulled a thick monocle out of a hidden pocket and eyed Ander's and Merril's staffs. He laughed; it was a jovial sound, rich and deep - and distinctly Orleasian. The hairs on the back of Fenris's neck stood on end. "I am most certainly not tranquil!" He took his sleeve, then, and to Fenris's utter horror, scrubbed the mark from his forehead. "I just say I am to fool those damned Templars." He laughed again.

Ander's brightened immensely. The not-so-tranquil mage clasped wrists with him excitedly. "I haven't seen many other mages able to stay out of this city's damnable circle. I was hoping I'd find some, though. It's why I set up shop, you see." Ander's smile only got wider and wider. Fenris's scowl darkened dangerously.

"My name is Halbert. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, truly!" The shop keep moved on to Merril - who didn't look like she understood exactly what was going on – and shook her hand vigorously. When he moved to Hawke however, his hand did not reach the lovely woman's.

Fenris grabbed the man's arm tightly, his expression tense and full of barely contained hatred. Wide eyes ran over intricate markings and the man's smile dropped into a tight frown. But while the mage was obviously taken aback with the warrior's appearance, his reaction was not the shocked horror Fenris usually received. Something was wrong. The elf tightened his grip painfully on the man, glaring at him dangerously, ready and willing to rip those too-probing eyes out.

He loosed him with the shock of pressure of Hawke gently reaching for his gauntlet.

But despite the release the shop keep still stared at the elf. His laugh-lined face was stony and bleak, and Fenris suspected this mage somehow knew more than he should.

Ander's broke the man's study, "You said you set this shop up for Apostates?"

As quickly as he'd dimmed the man brightened again. "Oh, yes! Every mage on the run needs a bit of help. I came here to offer it, and the goods to help keep them free." Though he was speaking to Anders his eyes kept shooting nervously to Fenris.

"For a price, I suppose?" said Hawke dryly. Her lack of wariness sat uneasily with Fenris and he shot her an angry look.

The man nodded gravely, "Just a low one, though. I only ask as much as it costs to get whatever it is they need. The foolish trinkets the nobles buy cover my profits. I keep the much more interesting and useful items in the back. Some are too dangerous for the templars to catch me with." He wiggled his thick eyebrows conspiratorially at Anders, "Would you like to see them?"

Fenris' answer was a resounding "no".

But no one agreed with the angry elf.

The middle-aged man led them through a locked back door into a little storage room filled with large shelves packed with marked trinkets. He looked to each of them excitedly, his eyes full of mischief. He tapped a few bricks in a quick and precise order and a clicking echoed from behind them. A deep grating sound began, and one of the great shelves slid away.

A secret door. Wonderful, Fenris thought dryly as he watched the man descend, leading Anders and Merril down into darkness. Fenris did not want to go into that hole. He did not like being around crazy apostates. He did not like following them into dark basements. But Hawke followed the others down into it, and he would not abandon her to whatever foul underworld waited. So he shifted the comforting weight of his sword and with a deep breath stepped into the stairwell.

They followed the man closely, getting a little tour of all his secret merchandise and for once other people were just as excited as Merril was regularly – and she was doubly so. The ecstatic elf couldn't keep her hands to herself, running them along the textured and runed staffs, feeling the velvety robes that would make even Isabela jealous of their flattering slits and plunging necklines. She was in heaven.

Fenris was in hell.

Wands lined the wall, dusty tomes that contained knowledge no man should see were stacked by the hundreds on looming shelves. The basement even had a table completely equipped for making potions and distilling lyrium. The elf couldn't withstand the involuntary shiver that snuck up his spine as he eyed the man's tools; hating being so near to things he'd known so well under Danarius.

He did not trust this place.

He did not trust mages.

And there were far too many of them packed into this hidden basement. Focusing on Hawke, he was angry to see her sticking near to the abomination's side. Stuck behind the excited and exceedingly distracted Merril, he could do nothing but grind his teeth and watch the others move ahead without him.

"Witch," he spat. "Move."

"O. One moment," said Merril breathlessly, stretching up on her toes to try and reach a glowing orb.

With narrow eyes he watched the cramped spaces push Hawke and Anders closer together. "Witch," he said more forcefully, willing her to get out of his way. Fenris knew Hawke didn't mind mages' company – their current situation more than enough proof if he'd ever harbored any doubt – but this place reeked of magic and mischief. And there was only so much Fenris could handle. He clenched his fist as she laughed at something the deranged shop keep said. But when Anders snuck his arm about her waist, tucking the woman into his side, Fenris's anger erupted.

"Move!" he snapped at Merril, risking putting his gloved hands on the female to try and coax her aside. But even his gentlest of touches overbalanced her precarious tip-toed position as she eyed things on high shelves. She tried to catch her balance, grasping desperately for an ancient feathered cloak, but with a loud rip of fabric she tipped, and before Fenris could grab her she crashed into a shelf. Toppling over it caved in on the two as varies expensive and rare merchandise fell about them in a downpour of shattering glass and heavy tomes.

The others turned back when they heard the crash, and were witness to a cloud of powders and feathers and torn pages.

Hawke rushed back to the fallen elves as both Anders and Halbert gave a horrified cry at the destruction.

Potions were spilled about them, staining ancient texts, and making the floor a field of broken glass. Broken jars were scoured around Merril, and the poor elf sat on the verge of tears in the middle of a lake of spilt potions, draped in a ripped robe with feathers in her hair.

Whispering condolences as she swept broken glass aside and helped her pluck the feathers from her hair, Hawke desperately tried to keep the rising water in her wide eyes at bay.

A coughing Fenris rose from the pile, covered in a white chalky dust. He looked like a powdered stage performer with his white hair and chalky skin, and Hawke was hard pressed not to laugh. He tried to scrub the mystery powder from his face, but it was in his eyes and covered his skin, and his hands only spread it around more. "Here," Hawke said as she pulled her hair tie out, handing the small scarf to him so he could clear his eyes.

He shot her a grateful look when the powder was rubbed away, blinking rapidly and coughing dryly. She smiled back as she began pushing books and broken glass away from the two. But her smile fell when she felt a great malice rise behind her.

It was a very angry Anders. "What have you done?" he glared at Merril, and his words bit.

She shook her head, wide eyed at the man's rage. "I-I didn't…"

"Yes you did!" he cried,

"Calm down, Anders," hawke said, angry at his harshness. "It's not her f-"

"Out," It was a quiet whisper, but loud enough in its anguish to effectively silence them. The shop keep stood where they'd left him; his head bowed. The utter disappointment and distress echoed off the man in palpable grief. "Out," he whispered again, his clenched fists shaking, "Get out." Anders was quick to gather the companions, helping Merril to her feet and shooting Fenris icy glares as he shooed the elves out.

As the others ascended the stairs Hawke hesitated, looking back at the man who was silent and still. A cough echoed down the passage. "I'm so sorry," she said softly, then turned and ran after her firends.

.oO:OO:Oo.

She blinked in the noon sunlight when she got outside, the glare sharp compared to the quiet glow of the trinkets inside the store.

Merril was still on the verge of tears, apologizing to an angry Anders who towered over the small woman.

Fenris stood apart from the two, still trying to scrub the powder away, cursing under his breath as he became more and more desperate. The damned stuff was everywhere! In his eyes and ears, and glittering on his jerkin and breastplate. It'd even snuck its way under his armor, caking up in the creases, clinging to him in a thin dusting that wouldn't come off.

Hawke went to his side, tentatively reaching for him but he spun on her, his eyes flashing. "I knew this would happen!" he yelled at her, and her sad eyes only made the day seem more like a betrayal to him. He shook his head violently, "You are too eager – too stupid – to know to stay away from magic. But why do you bring me into it?" His words stung, and her hands fell back to her sides, no longer so eager to help. People started to stop to watch the scene.

"It's not her fault!" Anders came to Hawke's side resting his hand on the small of her back. Back suddenly going rigid, Fenris's eyes sparked even more when he saw the mage's boldness. "Merril's saying you pushed her," the man accused, narrowing his eyes.

Merril scooted over, sniffling. "Well he didn't really push." She said softly. "He just startled me. I think he was just angry because I was taking too long, looking around and snooping when I shouldn't have. I don't have very good balance anyways - I fall over all the time - and I'm sure he didn't know. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ruin everything!" she rambled, still trying valiantly to keep herself from falling apart.

"Hush, now. It's alright Merril." Hawke said. She shot a stern look at Anders. "No one is at fault. It was an accident. It's no worse than breaking fine china." She joked, hoping to make light of the situation. It didn't help Merril much.

The elf grew even more frantic. "Oh! That's horrible! Far worse than I thought!"

Hawke gave a small sigh. Fenris coughed again.

She eyed him closely. The powder was everywhere, dusting his skin and armor, caked on his lips and clinging to his eyelashes. "Anders, do you know what that stuff is?"

Leaning forward, the man brought his inspection closer to Fenris who backed up uncooperatively, shooting the mage an annoyed look. Anders sighed, "No. You should come to the clinic and wash, though."

Fenris looked horrified at that prospect. "I'll go nowhere with you, abomination." He hissed.

"If there are any symptoms, you should be at the clinic so I can treat them," Anders said, trying to keep his teeth from clenching in irritation. He wouldn't even invite the blighted elf if it weren't for Hawke's worry. But despite his restrained tones, none of the danger left the warrior's flashing green eyes.

Hawke shook her head at his stubbornness. "Anders is right, Fenris. The shopkeep said the merchandise down there was dangerous. And I doubt he'd be willing to help us out now."

"Dangerous? You mean… I might've killed Fenris!" Merril shrieked aghast, her hands flying to her mouth.

"No! No, Merril. He'll be fine."Hawke soothed, grabbing the hysterical elf's hands and patting her gently, trying to calm her down. A crowd had gathered by now, eyeing the four curiously. "We should really go." She gave Fenris a loaded and pleading look. "Come on, Merril, you and I will go to Ander's clinic too, and make sure Fenris is just fine, alright?"

And as much as he hated it, Fenris gave in to Hawke's abstract demand. He heaved a sigh - his eyes still all fire - but turned and trudged off towards the clinic as another caugh ripped through him.

.oO:OO:Oo.

But Anders wasn't able to tell him anything there either.

It didn't help that Fenris wouldn't let anyone close enough to get a sample of the stuff. He was still raging, and wanted no one near as he sat in his corner with a small basin of water and a dirty cloth to rub the powder away from everything. He'd refused to remove his jerkin, and the stuff had been infuriatingly difficult to get out of the creases of his breast plate. His eyes were blurry; the gritty stuff still in them, and despite Fenris' best efforts he couldn't get it out. But as evening neared he still showed no signs of any serious side effects.

And Anders was sick of having the angry elf frightening his other patients.

"Go home," the mage said irritably, "If anything happens tonight come tell me in the morning." Fenris was just as glad to be gone from the place as Anders was to get rid of him, and the elf hurriedly gathered his newly cleaned sword and breastplate. Merril also began gathering her belongings, which had spread themselves around the clinic haphazardly.

Hawke was the only one who still seemed worried. "And if nothing happens?"

"If nothing happens than he doesn't have to bother to showing up," as soon as the mage said the biting words he obviously regretted them in the face of the woman's anger. He gave a great sigh and shot Fenris an annoyed glare before looking back to Hawke softly. "If nothing happens then he should be fine."

Something about the way he said that statement felt demeaning to Fenris. Like he was telling Hawke to take care of her dog; Anders didn't really give a damn. The mage's act irritated the elf, almost as much as the hand that was running up Hawke's arm. His jaw clenched tightly as she smiled warmly at the abomination. He didn't understand the foul emotions that the scene inspired, so he hurried out of the clinic, wanting to be away from them.

"Wait! Fenris!" Hawke's voice followed him out, and despite himself Fenris stopped in the darkness, illuminated hollowly by the lantern, a bit of the tension easing out of his shoulders. Being anywhere with the damned abomination always made his hackles rise.

But Hawke didn't follow him right away, and he looked back, just in time to watch the mage step closer. Hawke's words floated out to him softy.

"Thank you for all your help today, Anders." She said and Fenris glared at them from the darkness just outside.

"Be careful, alright?" he said. "You know the nights aren't safe."

She nodded, giving him a wry smile. "Not safe for the thugs, you mean?" He chuckled lightly at her words, but his eyes were still too serious. "I'll be fine. Fenris will be with me."

That was not what the mage wanted to hear.

He stepped closer still, and Hawke could feel the heat of his gaze; her breath caught as he tucked a few stray bangs behind her ear.

So did Fenris's. They were entirely too close to be proper, especially in the elf's standards. And he didn't like the glint that had entered the man's eyes, or the way they shot to Hawke's full lips. A sick feeling clawed at his heart and his stomach dropped. He was sure neither was a side effect of the powder.

Another quieter thing was said, too soft for Fenris to hear, and Anders leaned in suddenly. The elf could only watch from outside the clinic, horrified.

But just before the man's greedy mouth found hers, Hawke turned her head away, and Anders caught her cheek instead. Whatever had been clenching his heart let loose, and Fenris breathed again. His face suddenly felt extremely hot.

Hawke stepped away from the man with a small, rueful smile. Anders was incredibly handsome and a dear friend. He'd made it clear several times that he had strong feelings for Hawke, and his continuing admiration warmed her. His attentions - while not sought out - weren't entirely unwelcome, and she didn't really know why she'd stopped him.

No. that wasn't true. She knew exactly why, and fear crashed into her when she realized the reason was standing just outside watching them with fire in his eyes.

She sighed. The walk home would not be pleasant.

"Will you make sure Merril gets home, tonight?" Anders' looked disappointed and slightly defeated, but agreed with a tired smile.

It was hard to turn away from him, then. And harder still to get her feet to take her to face the angry elf outside, but if anything were to be said of Hawke, it was that she wasn't afraid of confrontation. "Goodnight, Anders," she said softly as she walked out of the clinic, his soft goodbyes following her into the dark, but she didn't dare turn to see his hurt.

Fenris wasted no time in the winding streets as they walked home, his stride was quick and Hawke knew he was eager to get away from her company.

She bit her cheek, disappointed with how spectacularly the day had failed. Fenris was untrusting of magic to begin with, and she'd known that going to a magic shop in the company of mages wasn't on the short list of things he enjoyed. But he'd been so distant lately, staying in his dark mansion, never coming on missions, hardly ever coming to the hanged man. She'd missed his company; that silent, strong presence that she'd grown so used to had vanished and a part of her felt vacant without him.

She'd known her plan was childish, but she'd been desperate to have him back at her side. She missed sitting and talking and drinking wine with him. She missed his hesitant smiles and shy surprise when she complimented him. And she missed his awkward flattery. She even missed the arguments.

But her terrible plan had gone far worse than she could have ever imagined. She worried that in her attempt to bring them back together, she'd just widened the rift. It must have been horrifying with his hatred of magic to have gone to a magic shop, and then have some unknown magical substance cast all over him. And it was her fault. She felt terrible.

And she was right – the day had certainly been a failure. But the horror of the powder was overshadowed by the sick feeling in the elf's gut. No magic or powder could make him feel as low as he felt that night. And it was all Hawke's fault. She only spurred that damned mage on, with her warm eyes and smiles and her kind words. He hated Anders, and even hated her a little at the moment for welcoming the mage's attentions.

But guilt crept in right alongside the anger. Fenris was well aware that the qualities that drew Anders to the woman were the same ones that kept himself at her side. She was everything he'd never known in life. Fenris couldn't really fault her kindness. But he wanted to.

He risked a glance at her, and noticed her distant expression, her pouted lips.

Would she rather the abomination walk her home tonight? It was a thought that brought a bitter taste to his mouth and he quickly looked away. He knew he could never have a claim to her, was absolutely certain he didn't want to have one, but that didn't make thinking of her with Anders any easier.

When they reached the Amell Estate he still avoided her gaze, confused and angry. "Fenris," she said quietly, willing his green eyes back to her. As usual he did the opposite, and turned his back on her. She sighed. "I'm sorry about today."

"It's nothing," his voice lacked the expected bite, and was weary. But despite his soft tones he was all tight shoulders and spikes.

A great silence stretched between them; the kind that Hawke had thought was behind them.

Guilt and worry forced Hawke to break it."…should I..stay with you tonight? Or you could stay in our guest room. If there are any side effe-"

He cut through the air and her words with a sharp, irritated slice of his hand. "No." he said with heavy finality.

The silence was there again.

He shook his head and she saw his shoulders fall. "Goodnight, Hawke." He did not wait for her reply before he stalked off into the night, leaving her with a very real fear that she may have pushed him too far; that her foolishness might have damaged their friendship irrevocably.

AN:

!Gasp! Will Hawke be with Anders? Why does Halbert have such a stupid name? And what are the magic powder's effects?

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! tune in next time to read: Flight!...(Fenris will not be flying:l)

if you enjoyed this please review!

I'm doing a bit of revamping! There were only little changes in this and the next several chapters. However Chapter 10 is completely different. I realized that I wasn't focusing on Fenris enough, so hopefully the changes in pace and writing will help move the story along.

Okay so maybe the idea won't turn out to be as good as my hopes for it, but i needed to write this! This story will be a spin off of the game, it takes place during and after the second act. Sebastian is back and thinking about reclaiming Starkhaven, and nothing has happened with the Qunari yet. In the middle of the Second act the story will deviate completely from the game.

It will be long. There will be many chapters. But hopefully they'll be good, and keep you readers happy. There will be a huge twist, intrigue, and of course love. Eventually there will be lots of turmoil... even more than that of a love triangle!

But for now, please enjoy the angst of supposedly unrequited love and horrible curses!

Blanket Disclaimer: Bioware owns all characters (except Halbert) and places.