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Unresolved Tangles (Through a Glass Darkly 4)	By : Anesor Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3510 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. Some characters may be my creations. I get no money for writing this sequel.

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The cat was uninterested in his fresh bout of cursing as he tried to comb out his tangled hair in the dawn light.
He'd slept restlessly again in the still summer heat. The draft coming up from the cooler depths of Darktown helped a little, even patients in the main clinic. It was too bad that the only way to be any cooler was to sleep on the bare stone, but he wasn't fond enough of rats to risk that.
The cat arrived a few days ago to give him company in the summer quiet of a heat wave. She was gravid and he had to worry that she or her kittens would be taken for purposes other than rat-catching, like feeding the desperate refugees. He liked to call her Lady Bounty, with some irony as she was mostly feral and avoided his assistants more than him.
As much as he liked giving her saucers of milk when he could, Darktown was not a safe place for her. Once the milk was gone, she slipped into the shadowy crevices and tunnels that made up the undercity of Kirkwall, reminding him of Hawke.
Now left only his own responsibilities for this day, the first of today's injured made their way to his clinic, even as his assistants began to trickle in. The heat led far too often to temper and carelessness and he had far more to care for than in the more pleasant seasons.
Kirkwall was much warmer than either Ferelden or his dimly remembered homeland.
He noticed, or Justice noticed, the passage of a couple of Templars past the open doors of his clinic before midday when things slowed. They only paused before continuing on. He was glad they were not planning to interrupt or even try to arrest him again. Justice might have relished the brawl, but he could do much more for the mage cause than picking a fight. Maybe they finally heard that he was a Grey Warden and not just an apostate mage.
Another head became visible, coming up the stairs to his clinic.
Then again, he shouldn't overlook the possibility that either Varric or Hawke had been bribing them into tolerance.
“Anders.” She greeted him with a smile, her green eyes still on the drowsy side. Her brown hair was in a neat pinning and her clothing of much better workmanship lately. It looked like her mother was succeeding in attempts to make her look like a proper Amell in loose silks and tooled leather. The effect was spoiled by the visible and lethal weapons, and not completely hidden armor.
The sight of that woke lower parts that Justice began to scold without words. Hawke must have just recently risen from her bed, and he wished he had been there to wake her. “Hawke. What brings you to my humble clinic today?”
Her smile became a teasing grin as she moved closer. “What, visiting my favorite Grey Warden isn't enough of a reason? I'm just glad the clinic is humble, because I'm not sure the healer is.”
Feeling better about more things than anytime in the last few months since the Tethras expedition ended, he steeled himself to ignore his spirit. “Humility is not a requirement for Grey Wardens, not that my feathers are colorful enough now for much of a display. Wonder what else I could display to impress my visitor from Hightown?”
His leering innuendo did not have the effect he'd wanted, as she looked irritated and the warmth faded.
“So why haven't you come to visit, Anders? I'm fairly certain I've asked a few times.” Her eyes were sad and he refused to see that they glistened.
He looked away, almost hoping some crisis could draw him away, but there were none so he looked at the ground to avoid her eyes. “I..” He had no good reason. “I've been busy.”
That made him want to kick himself for saying something so lame. Hawke stepped closer, close enough that he could see her well-made boots.
“I thought we were at least friends, Anders.” Her voice was a small whisper.
That made him look up and meet her eyes; he could not deny her this much. Touching her cheek, he held every other muscle in place with more willpower than he ever had as a mere human. “I'm sorry, Hawke. It wasn't intentional.”
She swayed into his touch, her eyes wide and pleading.
It was still too dangerous, but he brushed fingers down to the tip of her chin, barely resisting touching her lips. “Nothing has changed.” My dear one, he wanted to say. “How about if I meet everyone at the Hanged Man tonight? I'll even bring a problem for everyone to bat around.”
Hawke's mouth closed before her lips compressed. Her voice sounded forced. “That's good. You wouldn't believe some of the things Isabela tries to con us into doing after a few drinks. You can make sure someone is sober enough to tell her no. You're good at that.”
He deserved that, even if he only wanted Hawke to have a better life, one without him and the inevitability of the Templars and his execution. He didn't want to be there at the Hanged Man when she did find someone. But it looked like he couldn't avoid it. “It's not a big problem, I just need to find a safer home for an expectant Darktown mother.”

A/N: Thanks to my beta reader who's been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.
The challenge: write the opening sentence to a story incorporating these words: fresh, hair and tangled, in 25 words or less.
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Unresolved Tangles (Through a Glass Darkly 4)