A/N: so this takes place basically in Act 2 and around Awakening of Origins. I had to shift around a few events in the timeline to actually make this work, one of them being the DLC 'Witch Hunt.' Hopefully people don't really mind all that much about that, since I know it was suppose to happen a few years after Awakening. I understand that they find Morrigan and all that in the same place as the Mother, but let's just say for this story that it is not. And I've always wondered why, if Justice was always so obsessed with lyrium things, why nothing really happened between him and Fenris. Sure, he's in Anders, but you'd think something would react with a spirit or something. I don't know. I kinda manipulated that idea. Title is destined to change… along with chapter names.

Anyway, hope you enjoy and forgive for some spelling/grammar mistakes. I would really love some reviews!

Prologue
The Hawk
"I was disappearing in plain sight. Heaven help me, I need to make it right."

"Do you wish for me to weep for a woman I've never met, Anders?"

The argument started as it normally did when they had the unfortunate opportunity of being in each others presence. Anders would say something obnoxious about Fenris' disdain for mages, using what he thought was a witty play on words, and the elf would reply with what he thought to be an honest answer. Anders would growl and make some obscene little remark before going off into a tangent, but it was different today.

The look on Anders' face was shallow, and the dark circles beneath his eyes seemed to have gotten even darker since they last saw him. He took a moment to reply, his fingers curling around his staff at his side as he glowered at the stoic elf beside him.

They were sitting in Merrill's little hovel waiting on Hawke to finish listening to whatever it was the Dalish mage was bleating on about. The air was tense and near breaking with the sickly sour taste of magic, something that had Fenris' lip curling and his green eyes shifting about as though enemies were going to come out of hiding from one of Merrill's dirty rooms. It wasn't everyday that Fenris went willingly with an entire group of mages on some twisted little adventure, but Hawke had insisted he come along, and he owed her that much at least. But no matter the frustration it caused, he was relieved he had made it out of the mess Hawke tangled him in with nothing but a few burns and a scratch.

But it had been Hawke's mistake to take a little detour in Lowtown before they made it back to Merrill's quaint little abode that had ended whatever sort of truce Hawke made between them when they agreed to travel along with her. It could have been a rumor, another lie those Ferelden refugees enjoyed coming up with, but their words had rung with truth when spoken.

"It should not matter if you've never met her, she deserves more respect than you ever will in your pathetic lifetime."

"Respect?" Fenris gave a derisive snort that only seemed to deepen Anders' frown. "Every mage seeks power, and it appears your 'Hero of Ferelden' was no different."

"You honestly don't care?"

The words were so softly spoken that Fenris momentarily looked to Anders in surprise, seeing the pain and the doubt there. His lips parted to add more insult to injury, but the words died on his tongue.

Fenris knew very little about the Hero of Ferelden. He knew she was an elven mage once from the circle, but soon taken under the wings of the Grey Wardens. Hawke spoke about the woman with childish awe whenever she had the chance, about how she single-handedly stopped the blight, or how she, an elf, put an end to a human civil war. Fenris, at one point in time, might have respected her. But now…

No. Fenris found he cared very little.

"She became an abomination. Even great mages will fall prey to the whims of a demon." A sneer made its way upon his lips before he could stop it, as it always did when the subject of mages came to light. His lip curled and he would have snarled, demanded that Anders drop the subject as he noticed that familiar flash of light behind the mage's eyes —all bright and blue and unnatural — but for that very reason, he carried on. "Perhaps this witch wasn't as strong as you thought her to be."

"Fenris."

He could hear his name being spoken in a gasp on Hawke's lips as she peered at him, cutting off whatever it was Merrill was saying to her as soon as she heard his words. There was a small second where shame graced his features as he saw the shock and anger upon Hawke's gentle face, her blue eyes wide with disappointment. But in that moment it became too hard to concentrate as he felt the spirit within Anders shift and move until the lyrium etched so finely into his own skin burned. The faint glowing of his markings became brighter, his hiss a sound of pain as he clutched at his chest.

This had happened once before when he had first met Anders along with Hawke those years ago. It had been quick and sudden, but the lyrium on his skin had been made aware by whatever it was that lived inside Anders.

"I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?"

Perhaps Fenris should have paid more attention.

"Because she was a mage, you forsake her then!"

He would had snapped back, told Anders you could not forsake something that hadn't been yours in the first place, hadn't been his to understand or even care to, because Fenris was not from Ferelden. And he was no mage sympathizer. No matter how much people spoke of this Grey Warden in such high regard, all Fenris could pinpoint from it was that she had been a mage, and that she was now gone because she had been too weak to resist a demon. Dead and buried because she had become an abomination, slain by the blades of her own comrades because she had failed them and become what mages feared most.

Mages deserved no better.

As the pain became too much to bear and the sound of Anders' demanding and booming voice became resonating, low and gravelly as the spirit clawed his way out from whatever dark hole he resided in, he felt familiar hands grabbing at his burning arms and pulling him up from the floor he had fallen on.

"Anders, no!"

He could hear Hawke yelling as his fingers fisted in his hair, his back pressing into the cold edge of the mirror that had been placed beside Merrill's bed as Hawke pushed him behind her. A voice in his thoughts told him to move, that this was not the place to be standing and that he was touching it, but the familiar pain of his markings were too overwhelming to listen to what his instincts told him.

"Stop defending him!" It came out as a deep shout, the glow of mage's eyes focused solely on Fenris. "Do you think he loves you, Hawke? A beast like him does not know how to love someone like you – a mage."

The words struck Fenris harder than he should have let it, sharp and piercing like a blade as he saw Hawke's shoulders slump and her head fall.

He didn't blame her.

He had left.

He deserved no sympathy from the woman; he should have known that better than anyone else. But when it came down to it, he had hoped that Hawke would understand. He had hoped she'd give him time… that she would wait for him. But he was not ignorant, and he knew that Hawke needed more than just an elf who could not touch her without the stain of memories in each little caress she had ever given him that night so long ago.

But what he couldn't understand was how she could run to him, to the mage who was no better.

"You don't want to do this." Hawke's words were soothing as they normally were when trying to calm the mage, hands raised as though to signal she meant no harm. "Anders, please. I know that you cared about the Warden, but you can't take your grief out this way."

But it seemed that Anders was not listening any longer. The light that burned in his eyes only darkened, swirling with the power of the fade. It only took one step closer to Fenris for his lyrium to burn again, making his teeth grit together and grind down hard.

"You may think you are free now, elf, but you are anything but."

"Do not speak to me about freedom, demon."

Before Fenris could register what it was that the spirit intended, Hawke was pushed aside by glowing hands and Merrill was screaming, screaming something about the mirror as Hawke scrambled back to gain some balance and to reach out to Anders with that familiar ferociousness on her face.

But the spirit rested that bright hand on the Fenris' shoulders before anyone could stop it, shoving him into cold glass, the burning of the markings like fire licking at his skin until he was blinded by white-hot light.

The glass of the Eluvian seemed to shift and crack, and Merrill cried out for them to stop what they were doing, but by then it was already too late. With Justice's power and the glowing of the lyrium upon his skin, the Eluvian seemed to ripple to life

"You are still bound in chains…"

Fenris did not know who spoke it, but it seemed like a million little voices all corralled into one as the mirror broke and swallowed him whole.

"No, Fenris!"

And then he was falling.