Looking back, everything had happened too quickly for Fenris to even parse. One moment, he had been standing near Hawke, trying to keep a particularly large raider away from the rogue while avoiding the edge of the steep embankment nearby. The next thing he knew, something heavy had hit him in the chest and the ground had disappeared out from under him.

He thought that he might have heard someone yell his name, but he wasn't certain. It could have been his imagination, a trick of the air whistling past his ears as he fell.

When Fenris hit the river a moment later, it felt as if someone had stabbed him in the chest. The water was freezing cold, and it stole his breath away in an instant.

Panic rushed through him, and between that and the cold it was difficult to think. He was a poor swimmer at best, and with his armor still on the chances of him making it back to the water's surface were slim. His sword at least wasn't pulling him down, what with him dropping it on the ground somewhere back at the top of the embankment, but it was a poor consolation.

His lungs were burning from lack of air, even as the rest of him froze.

Fenris frantically moved his arms, trying to remember the motions he had learned that would help propel him above the water. His gauntlets kept his arms from moving the way they need to move, though, helping keep him from making his way upward. They weighed him down, keeping him from putting his rudimentary swimming skills to use.

Water suddenly filled his mouth. He hadn't even realized that he'd opened it. Maybe he hadn't. His body was aching with a need for air, and it wouldn't surprise him if the action had been unconscious.

The world went hazy for a moment, his body gasping for air and only finding water. His vision was going black at the edges, and the urge to keep struggling to find the surface was fading. Even the cold didn't feel quite so biting.

Then a pair of arms wrapped around his chest and yanked him upwards.

Fenris's first instinct was to fight whoever had grabbed him, but he didn't have the energy. He gave in, not hindering but not helping, as blackness continued to encroach on the edges of his vision.

And then, suddenly, he could breathe.

Fenris gasped for air, choking as water poured out of his mouth and nose. It burned on its way out, contrasting with the frigid air that his lungs were trying to draw in. He couldn't think, couldn't fight, couldn't do anything but try to breathe as his body expelled all of the water he'd swallowed. All the while, someone kept a firm grip on him, holding him above the water.

After what felt like a lifetime, but probably wasn't more than a minute or so, Fenris found the strength to turn his head enough to see who had rescued him. And immediately froze in surprise.

"Mage," he said, surprised to find his teeth starting to chatter.

Anders gave him a sardonic smile. "Expecting someone else?" he asked, and Fenris might have taken offense if the man's words hadn't been as shaky with cold as his own.

Fenris grunted. "Always."

Anders rolled his eyes, but to Fenris's surprise he didn't press the subject. Instead, he merely tightened his grip around Fenris's chest. "Can you swim at all?"

Fenris's first instinct was to snap back at the mage that of course he could swim. As much as it stung his pride, though, he knew that honesty was needed considering the situation. "Some," he admitted reluctantly. "Not very well."

To his surprise, there wasn't any judgement in Anders's eyes. The man just nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting past Fenris to focus on the shore. "It's going to be mostly on me then," Anders muttered under his breath, clearly speaking to himself rather than Fenris.

The arms around Fenris's chest loosened their grip, just slightly, and he felt himself start to slide back under the water. His reaction time was sluggish, and he'd almost gone completely under before he even thought to start moving his arms or legs. Behind him, Anders let out a rather impressive string of curses before once again wrapping his arms more firmly around Fenris, hauling him back up over the water's surface.

If it had been anyone else, Fenris might have apologized. As it was, he stayed quiet.

"Oh yes, this is going to be fun," Anders grumbled. Then he started moving them through the water, slowly and carefully, in the direction of the shore.

Fenris took in a deep breath, letting the frigid air fill his lungs and trying not to cough. His mind felt muddled and slow. He knew that he should be doing something to help, so that the mage wasn't doing all of the work.

… and the next thing he knew he was being shoved up onto the river's shore, the sky darkening above his head as he sprawled on his back. He didn't remember anything about the swim.

It should have worried him that he'd obviously lost time. Fenris was too exhausted to focus on that thought, though. Just keeping his eyes open took a colossal effort.

Fenris didn't even realize when they slipped closed until someone grabbed him by the arm and yanked him up into a sitting position. His eyes shot open.

Anders was kneeling beside him, his face startling close. "Stay awake, damn you," he hissed, an undercurrent in his voice that Fenris couldn't quite read.

Fenris blinked a few times, his vision blurring worryingly in and out of focus.

A hand suddenly rested on the side of his face, blessedly warm. "Fenris," Anders said urgently, "you need to keep your eyes open."

Normally, Fenris would snap at the mage to keep his hands to himself, especially when he was so clearly using magic. He couldn't drum up the energy to do so just then, though, especially not with the heat coming from the offending hand. Instead he leaned into the touch, his eyes drifting closed again.

"Fenris!"

Something hit him, hard, and Fenris's eyes snapped open again. Anders's hand was held up a few inches from his face, and it was evident that he'd just slapped him.

Anger rushed through him, followed shortly after by a surge of clarity. He was still freezing, and his vision still wasn't as clear as he would have liked, but his mind felt at least slightly sharper.

"I am awake, mage," Fenris said, slightly surprised to hear his words slurring together. He cleared his throat, focusing on enunciating more clearly. "Do not hit me again."

"It worked, didn't it?" Anders shot back, but it was missing the heat that their interactions usually held.

Without saying another word, Anders shoved himself to his feet and held his hand out for Fenris to take. Fenris stared at the appendage as if its very existence personally offended him. Perhaps it did.

Anders made an annoyed sound. "Come on," he said. "We need to find shelter."

Against his better judgement, Fenris took Anders's hand and let himself be helped to his feet. He let go of the mage as soon as he was on his feet, and immediately realized his mistake as he almost went tumbling back to the ground. Anders grabbed him before he could fall, throwing one of Fenris's arms over his shoulder and wrapping his free arm around Fenris's body.

"Can you do your stubborn posturing act later?" Anders hissed, and Fenris suddenly noticed how shaky his voice sounded. "Preferably after we're out of the open?"

Fenris looked at him with some effort.

Anders's lips were blue, his already pale skin leeched of almost any hint of color. His coat was missing, leaving him in a thin pair of trousers and a shirt that looked as if it was more patches than clothing. Between the paleness of his skin and his general ramshackle appearance, he looked almost like a walking corpse.

Which was quite appropriate, considering that was how Fenris felt.

Fenris felt his breath catch in his chest as realization hit him. They might be out of the water, but they were far from being out of danger. Unless the situation changed, and quickly, they were both going to freeze to death.

"Well?" Anders asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you going to behave?"

Part of him wanted to glower at the mage, to force him into one of their usual verbal sparring matches. It would be foolish, though. Especially since the man had just helped save his life, even if he was loathe to admit it.

"Yes," Fenris said simply, nodding his head. Even that small action was enough to send his vision spinning.

That same odd flash of something that Fenris had noticed earlier flashed across Ander's face, but the mage didn't say anything. He just started moving.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Then Fenris frowned, a thought occurring to him. "Why don't you use your magic?"

Anders let out a bark of laughter. "Now you want me to use my magic," he said, shaking his head. "Typical. Bloody typical."

Fenris frowned. "It would be preferable to freezing."

Anders let out another laugh, and Fenris couldn't help but notice that there was a slight twinge of hysteria to it. "We already covered this during our lovely swim, remember?" he snapped. "I used most of my mana to keep us from turning into icicles while we were still in the water."

Try with all his might, the gap in his memory of their swim to the shore stayed obstinately blank. "My apologies," Fenris said, and the words felt like ash in his mouth. "I do not remember the conversation."

Beside him, Anders stilled for a moment before continuing to walk forward. If Fenris hadn't been leaning against him, he might not have even noticed the slight pause.

"How much time are you missing?" Anders asked, his voice shifting into the clinical tone he used when he was healing.

Fenris didn't answer.

Beside him, Anders tightened his grip around Fenris. "It's important, Fenris," he said, more insistently.

Reluctantly, Fenris glanced at him. Anders was staring at him, a hint of worry in his eyes. "Most of the swim," he admittedly reluctantly.

Anders didn't look particularly surprised, but the worried look on his face didn't abate.

Fenris frowned at him. "Why?"

"Why what?" Anders asked tired, his teeth chattering so loudly that it almost drowned out his words.

Fenris clenched his hands into fists at his side, wanting to pull away from the mage but well aware that he probably wouldn't be able to support himself if he did. "Why did you jump in the water after me?" he asked. "Why didn't you simply leave me to drown?"

There was a long pause, the only sound that of both their teeth chattering.

"Do you really think that little of me?" Anders asked quietly.

There wasn't a way to truly answer that question, and Fenris knew it. Just an hour or two earlier, he would have agreed with the statement in an instant. But that would have been before the man had thrown himself into a river to help save the life of someone who he hated.

So instead Fenris stayed silent.

… and then he lost time again.

Fenris didn't know how much time passed. One minute they were clinging to each other as they made their way from the water's edge, and the next they were leaning against a tree as Anders gasped for breath, muttering derogatory comments that sounded more worried than antagonistic. And then, just like that, they were huddled under a small outcropping of stone, a tiny fire in front of them slowly warming the air around them.

Fenris frowned, taking in the scene in front of him and trying to find at least some memory in his mind to explain how they had gotten there. His armor was laid out nearby, but he was still wearing the thin garments that he typically wore under it. They were damp but not soaked through with water, a sign that either quite a bit of time had passed or the mage had used his magic to help dry them.

Or possibly both.

Speaking of the mage, Anders was kneeling beside the fire with a look of concentration on his face. His hair was hanging loose around his face, clearly in the process of drying, but it was still wet enough to suggest that a significant amount of time hadn't passed.

"What happened?" Fenris asked. Or, at least, that's what he tried to ask. His mouth stumbled over the words, turning them into an inarticulate sound instead.

Still, it was enough to grab Anders's attention. Anders turned towards him instantly, his eyes lighting up. It was unnerving, seeing the mage looking at him like he was actually relieved to see him.

"Thank the Maker, you're awake," Anders breathed out, his hand reaching out to rest on Fenris's forehead. "I was starting to get worried."

Fenris pushed himself up into a sitting position, and just that little bit of effort send a wave of exhaustion rushing through him. He wanted to pull away from Anders, but even the thought of it was draining. Instead, he glared at the mage, and after a moment or two Anders seemed to take the hint and pulled his hand away.

Anders rolled his eyes at him. "I was just trying to make certain you were doing better."

"Clearly I am," Fenris said, and this time the words actually came out although they were shakier than he'd intended them to be.

Anders opened his mouth as if he was going to reply. Then he abruptly snapped his mouth shut, his eyes flashing.

Fenris frowned. Before he could say anything, though, Anders turned away from him and instead focused his attention on the fire that Fenris had noticed earlier.

Anders's eyes narrowed as he focused on the small fire in front of them. After a few seconds, the flames almost doubled in size even though they didn't seem to be burning their way through the wood significantly faster. Anders's mouth turned upward into a tired grin.

Then he swayed.

Fenris reached out to steady him without even thinking about it, ignoring the surprised look that Anders shot him. The mage sat there for a moment, letting Fenris hold him up, before he gave a small nod.

It wasn't much, not truly. Nothing more than short truce. Once Hawke found them or they found Hawke, whichever came first, things would most likely go back to normal.

But it was a start.