Fenris approached the hut where he had discovered Anders was staying. He was filled with trepidation over his imminent reunion. It had been a long time since he'd seen the mage. Not since he'd left Hawke's side after they all fled Kirkwall. Fenris couldn't remain with Hawke after Kirkwall. His anger and feelings of betrayal cut too deep. So he just left.

While Fenris had been hunting for Anders, he had been dreaming of plunging his hand into Anders chest, squeezing the life out of the heart of that sanctimonious mage. Now he was very close to completing that goal, and he felt a conflict of emotions run through him.

Fenris thought bitterly back to all the fights he'd had with Anders over the years. The endless litany of the plight of mages he'd had to endure. Losing Hawke to Anders had nearly broken him and yet he'd remained. He watched Hawke spare Anders' life and remain steadfast at the mage's side, even after all that Anders had done. Even after all the suffering and death the mage had caused.

Now Hawke was dead. Something else the mage could have … should have prevented, but obviously didn't. Where was the justice in anything Anders had wrought?

Yet, Fenris also remembered the endless hours that Anders had selflessly given to the poor of Darktown, healing anyone that required it, comforting family and friends when there was nothing he could do, risking his life and freedom in order to save just one more person, despite always being at risk of discovery by the Templars. Fenris was always loathe to admit, but part of him had admired Anders' selfless determination to help the poor and downtrodden.

Finally. Fenris stood outside of the door to the hut and took a deep steadying breath, and drew his sword. He then slammed open the door, hoping to catch Anders off-guard. If he was lucky, he could subdue the mage quickly.

What Fenris saw after storming into the hut caught him completely off-guard.

In the middle of the hut sat a man, cross legged. He was surrounded by a magical glyph on the floor that Fenris was rightfully wary of. The man looked gaunt and sickly. His skin looked pale and clammy, his cheeks were hollowed out, and there were deep, dark circles under his eyes. His hair was long and unwashed and unkempt. His face was unshaven, covered in a long, unkempt beard. He was only dressed in breeches and little else, and his ribs were easily visible, he was barely skin and bones.

At first Fenris didn't recognize the figure before him, until he noted a couple of familiar scars.

"Anders?" Fenris asked, tentatively. No response.

Whatever bitter rage Fenris had moments before seemed to disappear, as he lowered his sword. He couldn't kill whatever this pathetic creature was before him. Clearly Anders had stopped caring for himself, probably because of the loss of Hawke. Anders clearly had suffered at his loss, far more so than Fenris had. It seemed almost like Anders was purposely starving himself to death.

"Mage?" Fenris asked again, after many long minutes. "Anders?" Still no response.

Fenris knew better than to step on the glyph, so he reached out with his long sword to nudge at the mage, trying not to injure. No response.

Clearly Anders was under some spell of his own making and Fenris didn't have the ability to break it. So he waited, hoping the mage would eventually come out of whatever spell he'd cast. While he waited Fenris gathered firewood and stoked a fire in the hearth and and was grateful to find a stash of wine, one of Hawke's favorite vintages.

Several hours later and Anders still hadn't stirred. Fenris had drained the bottle of wine he had opened and was beginning to doze in the chair he'd been sitting in. He had tried a few more times to rouse the mage unsuccessfully and decided to leave it until morning. He staggered over to the bed in the opposite corner of the hut, and collapsed onto it, asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Fenris awoke from a dream about Hawke, and felt disoriented as he could smell Hawke around him until he realized where he was, and why the bed he was in smelled so much like his old friend. Then Fenris remembered why he was there and tears welled in his eyes again and he couldn't help but let out a sob.

Fenris allowed himself a moment to grieve again for his lost friend before composing himself and getting up. He went to the wash basin and splashed his face with water and then saw to the mage, who was still sitting where he had been the day before, although the glyph now appeared to be gone, the magic having faded in the night. If his magic was fading, it meant the mage was likely close to death.

Fenris didn't know what came over him, but he was overwhelmed by the need to rouse Anders, to keep him from slipping away. Fenris suddenly realized he really didn't want Anders to die as well, despite how often he had imagined killing him. At the very least, he didn't want him to die like this.

Fenris knelt in front of the mage and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. "Wake up, mage!" Fenris said hoarsely. "ANDERS! WAKE UP!" Fenris shook Anders more violently and slowly the mage began to come to, blinking his eyes, focusing them.

Anders looked at Fenris and whispered hoarsely "you!" before slumping to the floor, passing out from exhaustion.

"Damn mage, always letting yourself waste away when Hawke isn't here to take care of you." Fenris grumbled.

Fenris picked up Anders in his arms, shocked by how little he weighed, the smell of unwashed mage assaulting his nose. He carried Anders over to the bed and went to fetch a cup of water. He then lifted a cup of water to Anders' lips, hoping to get him to drink. Reflexively the mage swallowed the bit of water that made it into his mouth, but most spilled out.

Fenris then went to heat water and filled the wash basin, taking clean cloths he proceeded to try and wash Anders as best he could. If asked, he wouldn't be able to explain why he felt the need to do so. In some ways he just felt the need to do something.

Once he'd cleaned as much of the Mage as he could, and removed his befouled breeches. Fenris wrapped the mage in blankets and decided for now, to let the mage rest.