hawke more or less slumps against the ever-suffering
abomination/ex-warden, plucking her detached tarsal
from a pocket and gesturing vaguely at her right foot. 


"cast your ice spell on this, please.
i think i’m about to pass out.”

she is not bluffing.

   ”you’re a piece of work, hawke, you know that?”

   a sigh, and then anders finds himself practically
   dragging hawke back into the clinic; he perches
   her upon a stretcher as best he can before
   plucking the appendage nimbly from her grasp,
   immediately…working his magic, as it were.

   he kneels, and a minute passes, and then one
   more—healing hawke isn’t like healing children,
   so he opts not to fill the silence with idle chatter.

   ”i'm nearly finished, just hold very still a moment.”

   and then, after a minute’s worth of concentration,
   finger wiggling, and glow-y blue stuff, bloodied
   digit is attached once more. anders produces a
   rag from his robes, wiping his hands. he rises to
   his feet, then, but not before delivering a couple
   of reassuring pats to hawke’s knee.

   ”there were are——the color will stay weird for
    a while, but other than that, you’re set! might
    be time to invest in a new set of boots, though.”


ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪsᴛ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ

babebanner said: Playlist title: “a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools”? A bit long but

listen here.






"Now that’s an exquisite robe.”

   ”do you think so?”

   ”i am fond of the feathers…”


  This is the first time he’s ever seen a mage outside of the
  free outside of the Circle. The only other time he’s seen
  one away from the Spire was the journey to Pharamond’s
  makeshift laboratory to save him from the demon.

      He recalls that fairly well, and memories of
      their traveling group floods his memory,
      splaying names with faces over his mind.

         Wynne and Rhys.
         Adrian and Evangeline.
         Even the big rock monster.
                                                             There’s no time to think of them.

  However, during that entire thought, he’s been staring
  at the man from the doorway, probably blocking others
  who needed entry. A funny thought, really, when someone
  tried to enter and instead ran into a man that just magically
  showed up in their way.

  For a moment, he’s forgotten how he even got there, the
  pain in his feet reminding him that he walked all the way
  from Val Royeaux just to see the sights of other places.
  Worth it? He has not a clue just yet as to if the trip was.


           Cole seems amazed by the setup of the interior,
           eyes trailing along the walls and build, right back
           down to the man he is now standing not even five
           feet away from. Discouragement settles, and he
           immediately feels as if he won’t be noticed.

   with the mage underground crushed in the wake of
   meredith’s increasing brutality, anders is preparing
   for the worst—and while he still offers his services,
   his clinic no longer bustles with activity as it did once
   upon a time. currently, pages of his manifesto are
   scattered haphazardly across the same gurneys that
   used to cradle the ill and injured.

   the mage strides with purpose, pacing to and fro.
   there’s something troubling him, that is true enough,
   but the presence of a spirit nearby gains his full
   attention, leading the healer to tense up immediately.


   jaw is set, but he ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ look. 

{ perhaps,
  he prays,
  it will leave. }

   ”why have you come here?”

   swallowing hard, anders turns his attention to the
   wall, tracing with his gaze years of weathering in
   the red banners that still remain hanging. he won’t
   call the presence a spirit out loud, because there
   are a few people still around, but he thinks his tone
   has made it clear enough who he’s speaking to.


  ’ ah— ‘

  she shuffles a bit awkwardly,
  tail brushing up a small cloud
  of dust.

      ’ the correct term for it is khajiit
        but yes. i do know i’m a cat. ‘

    brows furrow. that’s certainly new.

   ”what kind of illusion is this? you just walk around
    this way wherever you please, staff on your back
    like it’s nothing? are you trying to get caught? the
    magic in you isn’t like anything i’ve sensed before.”

    he recalls ferelden tales detailing apostates—
    witches—living in the korcari wilds. they’re said
    to be shapeshifters, and he wonders if this mage
    might be one of them.


  the reaction sends her back a foot
  or two, a slightly confused sound
  being made.

     her expression right now is
     basically priceless, and she
     turns as if seeing if there’s
     anything behind her.

       ’ what? are you okay? ‘

   ”me? i’m fine. you——”

    he’s at a loss for words, really. there’s no telling
    what kind of magic this is, and quite frankly, the
    former warden isn’t too sure he wants to know.

   ”…you know you’re a cat, right?”



  she reaches to gently
  tap him on the shoulder;

             ’ pardon me, sir— ‘

   the mage turns fast on his heel and
   he’s not sure how he ought to react.

   ”maker have mercy…”


there’s no reason two can’t play this game (it’s really more surprising that anders has deigned to play at all). hawke walks (alright, hobbles, but it’s rather well-hidden) to the clinic door, pokes her head out, and shouts:


sorry! our apostate friend here says he can’t help you! also, he thinks you are personally unattractive!” 


    how very dare she. grumbling under his breath, the healer
    storms across the clinic—he seizes her arm and tugs, an
    attempt at dragging her back across the hovel’s threshold.

   ”that was a joke; toes last days if you put them on ice!”


a frown, and she shakes her head from side to side as if to gauge it, one hand surreptitiously sliding into a pocket.

"we’ll say twenty minutes.”


"it’s still warm.” 

   ”twenty?” tone is incredulous, as if that’s absolutely absurd.

   ”i'm sorry, hawke—but there’s nothing i can do.”