Sometimes Anders had to wonder if he should ask for a hand. Just someone to help around the clinic when things were starting to become a little too much. But they would of course require payment. And the more people that stayed there on a daily basis, the more attention the small clinic would attract. Attention from all the wrong places at that. Yet he’d still think about the possibilities whenever he stole a glance around the room while he worked on patients. Some days came close to being too much for him to deal with alone, even with Justice’s support. The mage would work hard on maintaining a calm demeanor, unwilling to show annoyances too much, or let show how tired he truly was at some points. These people had been trough a lot already and they deserved to feel welcome here. That was part of what his clinic stood for.
There were also times when Anders wondered if more people found him because of Hawke, or perhaps because of Varric’s tales. Sending in all the right people and warding off those who would seek trouble. He’d take comfort in knowing that they supported him in his work, even if that meant more people to tend to. It weren’t just refugees from Ferelden anymore either, Anders noted. The poor of Kirkwall would take up more than half the space sometimes. This cemented the mage’s believe that Kirkwall was beyond help if they could not, and would not, look after their own.
“That should be it, could you try moving your arm now?”
Anders stepped back, watching the blue pulse of magic fade away under his patient’s skin. It was an elderly man, doing as he was asked. Anders watched the arm as the man carefully began to move it, keeping an eye out for any signs if pain. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the man’s approving expression as he waved his arm around enthusiastically. These little jobs of fixing up someone’s pain due to their age were always tricky, and he had missed the mark a couple of times already. Running his hand trough his hair, Anders helped the man up from the cot he’d been seated on. “I need you to take it easy for a couple of days. Or you’ll be back in no time if you overexert yourself.”
Confident that his advice had been taken, Anders helped the man out, feeling just about ready to take a break himself. He could hear Justice in the back of his mind. There were no demands made by the fade spirit. It was rather soothing, he admitted He watched the old man go down the stairs without any trouble, moving out of his sight. At the same time he noticed someone else coming up. A mess of red hair tricked him into believing it was Aveline at first. He would welcome her, yet his stance betrayed his unease with the idea. Imagen his surprise when instead of the expected person, he lay eyes on a much smaller woman. He moved out of the doorway slowly with the intention of moving this person half way. If they were in need of help, then he’d guide them to the clinic. If they were not then Anders would simply have to defend himself, now wouldn’t he?
“Are you alright?” there was worry in his voice as he called out to her.
There were not many people within the Alienage that could offer her assistance, several refused to get involved with one such as she – who seem to attract too much attention unto herself. Labeled as a troublemaker, one could only imagine how little amount of friends she had. But, a young woman seemed to have taken a liking to Sarah, her name was Merrill – and she was the one she went to regarding her ailments. Surprisingly enough, she had directed her to find a man that could help with the ongoing fever and the wound she wasn’t able to close up properly.
Not once had Sarah visited Darktown since her stay here; of course, who is not to say she heard rumors and was warned to stay away from going down there. She didn’t have much of an option, especially since her feverish condition made it nearly difficult to move for extended periods of time.
Thus, with the aid of her new-found friend, Merrill, Sarah dressed herself in an old dress and worn boots, draped a tattered cloak over her shoulders, it was the best she had at the time. A belt bag rested at her hips, which thankfully was concealed by the cloak due to the contents they carried. Her attire wasn’t in worse shape than how she possibly appeared to the public, especially with the hint of bags forming underneath her eyes. A once lovely face was now showing signs of fatigue and exhaustion. She was flushed, with made her freckles all the more pronounced.
With an arm draped over the freshly bandage wound, Sarah had made it to Darktown and made sure to keep her hair unkempt and across her features, to attempt to conceal her ears. Though she was not well, her eyes were not dulled over from the affliction. She was looking about, making sure that she was heading in the right direction and avoiding the passing glances of those she assumed would be slavers. There was a distinct smell that made her groan and hope that she would find Ander’s clinic soon to get out from the public eye.
Aunduin, being her guide, lead her to the clinic, and it was obvious she was in the right place from the look of the building. There was someone being assisted down a few steps and, by the looks of it, accompanied by someone else. The wolf barked lightly in greeting as Sarah stopped at the lower step and turned her attention to the elderly fellow taking his leave. His eyes lingered on her features for a moment, but she withdrew her gaze to turn her attention to the man at the threshold of the building.
“Excuse me, this is the clinic, correct?” Her voice gave away the slight uneasiness she had whilst slowly ascending the steps. Depths of viridian hue lowered to Aunduin, the beast who rested his head on the palm of her free hand. Sarah smiled warmly as she used him to keep her upright, since she nearly tripped over her own feet. “I was directed here, hopefully I am at the right place. I am looking for Anders?”
He was described to her earlier, and now, she felt even more foolish for asking. The hint of embarrassment touched her features as she tilted her head down, letting her fiery crown spill forth. “Sorry, not really familiar with these parts.” She slowly pulled her hand from around her frame and lifted her chin in his direction. Quietly, she studied him and nearly parted her lips to speak again, but her attention was drawn past him, in hopes that she did not take up his time if he was already so busy.
