Anders discovered the bloodmagic that chains Fenris from within.
Anders recalled the conversation. Bethany had asked Fenris about the lyrium the magisters put in his skin, "Does it still hurt?" And Fenris had replied so softly, "You do not want to know the answer to that." Also, every time Fenris seemed to use abilities related to the lyrium brands (for they could not be considered tattoos), the release of that power ripped an agonizing rage-filled scream from him.
Varric and Hawke set up camp while Anders washed Fenris' wounds by the stream. "Fenris. Your lyrium brands react to the magic I cast on you in battle. Am I hurting you when I do it?"
"Yes," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Any sudden or foreign magic hurts."
"Foreign? So… Danarius' magic on you or in you does not hurt?" He washed the rest of the blood and sand away from the wounds and looked carefully at them. Fenris refused to answer, simply looked away. "If the magic is not sudden, like when I heal you in camp, does it still hurt?" He slowly eased in his healing magic to carefully mend ribs and muscle and skin. "Am I hurting you?"
Fenris let out a soft sigh as the wound sealed and the pain ebbed away. He did not want to admit to the possessed apostate that this gentle healing was the only relief he ever gets from his perpetual pain. "No, this… you are not hurting me."
As Anders finished and drew his hands away, he saw the squint return to Fenris' eyes. It was usually there and Anders concluded it was from the daily pain the elf seemed to endure. "Fenris. It bothers me that you hurt all the time."
"It is not like you can do anything about it!" he spat in frustration.
Anders touched a scrape on Fenris' shoulder and healed it, but allowed his healing to glide through the surface of Fenris' whole body. At first, he worried the elf would hit him. The elf looked startled and wide-eyed at him. Usually Anders asked before doing something to Fenris regarding magic. "I'm just making sure I haven't missed anything." It was a hasty lie. Fenris seemed to accept it. He closed his eyes and within moments let out a desperately relieved sigh as his muscles relaxed and the ever-present pain was temporarily lifted. "Is this… okay?"
Fenris swallowed hard for he had no memory of being without this pain except while Danarius was controlling him like a puppet. And here, the pain was gone and he had complete freedom of his own body. He wanted to weep, but dared not, not in front of the apostate. When he felt Anders magic receding, the plea left his lips before he could swallow the words back, "Please, don't stop."
"I can't keep this up forever. But tell you what, I know a Warden mage spell I have used in confusing battles. I can cast it upon you. It's a sustained spell for healing. We'll see if you can at least get a full night's sleep pain free."
It was the first time the elf had thanked him and the constant drain on his mana for this wild animal seemed worth it. Anders suddenly made a realization about the elven warrior. He was like a feral abused and injured cat. Patients, and comfort, and care… ease the anxiety and the pains and the fears… and there might just be a shy gentle kitten waiting to purr out its thanks.
Anders said nothing of what he had discovered or done for Fenris, but did volunteer to keep watch tonight. To sustain the spell, he needed to stay awake. Watching Fenris move about without the pain was like seeing a whole new elf. Fenris stood up straighter. He twitched less. He performed these long languid stretched like he has wanted to do them for years and could not. The mage watched Fenris sleep, a relaxed sleep, where the elf actually slept in through the breaking of camp the next morning and had to be prodded awake by Hawke.
By morning, Anders was too exhausted to keep up the spell and it fizzled out by the end of breakfast. The mage was practically a walking zombie on the way back towards Kirkwall. Hawke chastised him for staying awake ALL night. Fenris, fell in step at Anders side for a change, side glancing now and then to make sure Anders did not just fall over, catching the mage's elbow every time he stumbled over everything on the path. Hawke through a curious look their way, wondering what changed between the seeming enemies.
Over the next few months, Fenris would find his way to the clinic. If it was empty, he would enter and ask quietly for Anders to ease the pain for a while again. He started to even bring a bottle of wine with him to share in thanks, only to learn that Justice would not allow Anders to drink. Fenris changed to bringing Anders food since he had also discovered that Anders had a tendency to give his food away to the poor who came for healing, surviving on very little and only eating well when they went on missions with Hawke.
It was in these quiet moment of relief, that they would speak without snarls, without hate, without yelling their personal agendas at each other. It was in these quiet shared moments that Anders would ask Fenris question, prodding bits of memory out of him. Fenris would recount what it was like to be controlled, the things Danarius would have him do, how it felt to have the lyrium poured into cuts made into his flesh. Fenris found himself opening up about his live and concerns to the man he despised.
Anders, for his part listened with exceptional patient. The healer in him bade he meet the elf's need to be pain free and the elf's need to talk to someone about what plagued his mind and soul. The mage in him sought to understand what had been done to Fenris, how the lyrium worked, why Fenris was in pain, how Danarius controlled him. Justice in him found a new mission, temporarily setting aside the one that bothered Anders soul so much. What had been done to Fenris was a grave injustice, something that needed to be made right.
"Fenris, I know why you hurt all the time."
The elf shot Anders a flat cold look, "So do I. These vile brands in me do it."
"Actually… no they don't." At the stunned look in those green eyes, Anders continued. "There is an entropic enchantment tied into the lyrium so the lyrium sustains it. It seems to be in place to leech in pain with a stopped only when a certain magical sequence interferes. What I keep doing for you is but a temporary bandage." He licked his lips because what he thought he could do, what Justice thought he could do, would be invasive and Anders was not sure Fenris would allow it. "I think I can unravel Danarius' magic in you. So the pain stops and so he can never take control of you again."
Fenris pounced on Anders causing the mage to yelp as fists curled fiercely in the front of his coat, almost tearing the poor threading. "Do not tease or tempt me abomination!" He shoved Anders and fled the clinic.
"Ooh great! Just great!" Anders ranted in his empty clinic. "He doesn't say 'no' to the demon in the Fade when we help Feynriel, but he says 'no' now. Stupid, stubborn, ass-backwards, barefoot, nug-brained, IDIOT!"
It took another two months before Fenris came back to Anders. The mage smiled to himself. A snide remark dangled on the tip of his tongue. But, Fenris brought stew. And Anders was starving. They ate in complete silence. When Anders offered to do some healing, Fenris gave a short nod, and sighed in deep relief when the magic sank in to ease the burning in his nerves.
"Do you really think you can unravel Danarius' magic?" asked Fenris.
"It was just a theory when I first suggested it. But I have been thinking about it since then. I really do. It won't be easy and I will have to get in deep. And it might take a long while and will definitely drain me, even with Justice helping, if you will allow it." He spoke the truth in plain facts, not cushioning it in any way as he would for some other patients. "It will likely hurt as bad as when you were first branded."
Fenris stared into those amber eyes so long, that Anders thought the elf had dug into the dark crevices of his soul. Anders wanted to look away, to not have the coward he was deep down be seen by this warrior he admired. But he dared not. Fenris needed to be able to trust Anders if this was going to work at all.
"You are still an abomination. If you lie, I will kill you. I will even have Varric there to peg you with his crossbow if you try to take me over."
Anders nodded and accepted. He was not afraid of Varric and did trust that if it got out of hand, well, he hoped Varric would peg him with an arrow. "I would never. I know all too well what it is like to be chained and not have any control of your own body. I would never inflict that upon anyone else."
Fenris seemed satisfied by something he saw and heard. He had assumed Anders referred to the spirit within him as Anders had once frightened Merrill with such words. "It's like you're trapped in your own body, seeing out your eyes, while someone else moves you like a puppet. And you're trying to scream, to move a single muscle, but there's no escape. Until you look down at the blood on your hands."
Fenris stood. "My mansion. Tonight."
"Tonight?! So… soon?" Anders had to get supplies and prepare mentally and … and… why was Fenris so unpredictable like this and like a demon pouncing out of the Fade?
"Yes tonight. My sister is on a boat on her way here. I suspect Danarius will be following."
That put everything into a whole new perspective and left a billion unanswered questions. When had Fenris contacted his sister? How? Why was she coming here? How did he even know? Was he scared? That was an answerable question. Of course he was scared or he would not be insisting on this. If Danarius came, Fenris would be caught in a trap from which there was no escape, unless this theory of Anders' actually worked.
"Alright. I will see you there." Anders watched Fenris stride out with a fierce determination. To himself, to the empty room, he said, "We are his only hope for freedom and choice." He looked to the hidden floorboard where an ancient Tevinter spellbook hid, one with supplies and plans that were momentarily on hold. They were all prepared save for one final act that needed to be performed in the Chantry. But that could wait a few days. Justice was in accord with Anders regarding giving Fenris a chance at justice for Danarius' cruelties.
At the mansion, Varric had been sworn to secrecy and begged to act if he must. Varric sat in a chair by the fireplace with Bianca at the ready. Fenris sat upon his bed wearing only his leggings and vest. When Anders arrived, a packpack jingling with the sound of potion bottles, Varric asked, "Hey, blondie. You think you can do this?"
"I have enough lyrium potions to kill the Arishok, a second time. So I will do this one way or another." Anders meant it. Justice gave him that sure courage. Not the false bravado he used to have, but a confidence he never had.
Anders pulled over a small table. "Fenris, you will not want any clothing on. This is likely to make you hypersensitive a while and I bet even clothes will hurt till it is over." He lined up a serious of potions in a very specific order, many of which were lyrium potions. At Fenris' hesitation, he flashed a silly grin. "Just because I am naturally drawn to very sexy male elven warriors does not mean I plan to do anything about you being naked. I like consensual partners… and besides, we will both be very busy doing vey not fun things."
Varric bellowed laughter. Fenris coughed in surprise, but undressed and laid down on his bed, pulling a thin sheet over for modesty.
The night was long. The agony white hot. Fenris' voice had gone hoarse hours ago. Anders was on his eighth lyrium potion. Justice shone bright through his eyes and cracks in his skin. Between Anders and Justice, Danarius' magical chains unravelled. Fenris begged in a whisper to remove the blanket. It hurt too much. Anders tugged it off and too the floor and kept working.
In the predawn light, Justice faded from Anders. Anders' magic shifted to a gentle green glow and eased the lingering pain in Fenris' body. "It is… done…" He sounded so exhausted. He dabbed a shaking hand to his face where a trickle of blood oozed from his nose. Blood laced with lyrium. His eyes rolled back and he crumpled off the stood he had sat on all night.
Fenris rolled to try to grab him, but he was too sluggish, not yet himself recovered. Varric dropped Bianca onto the plush chair and hurried over to haul Anders to the other plush chair.
"Fool," croaked Fenris. "Is he alive?"
"He's alive. But damn. He looks terrible." Varric got a rag and cleaned Anders up.
"Fool…" Despite his complaining, Fenris had never felt so free. He could no longer sense the lingering tingle that he knew was traces of Danarius. He no longer felt the undercurrent of lyrium burn. Anders AND Justice stuck to their word, even if they foolishly risked dying of lyrium poisoning. And yet Fenris wondered. Did Anders care if he died from lyrium poisoning? Did he hope to in order to be free of Justice?