Chapter 2

When Fenris finally woke, it was late afternoon. The sun was streaming in the dirty windows, dust caught in the beams of light, dancing and twirling as if caught in a ballet. Odd, thought the elf, he didn't normally think of ballets, even if he did tell Varric he choreographed dance routines and flitted about his estate perfecting them, obviously joking. Today he felt he really could do a dance, however. He still felt great from last night, a small smile spread on his face. He finally had made up with Hawke, he got a lot of fantastic sex, and he was only mildly sore. He stretched and cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders and looked over at the still-sleeping mage splayed in his bed. Only a sheet covered her, and it was not doing a good job at concealing her form, for which Fenris was thankful. He kissed her forehead and got up. His stomach grumbled and he realized that he was in desperate need of some food. He normally didn't keep a lot of food here in the house, mainly because he didn't know how to cook. There were still a lot of things Fenris was finding out that he had no idea how to do. He finally managed to get used to reading, and he even started learning to write, but still there were many things he just did not know how to do. He grabbed a hunk of cheese and a loaf of crusty bread, alternating bites, chewing thoughtfully.

Hawke had Bodahn and Sandal living with her in the estate. As far as Fenris knew, Bodahn did everything for Hawke, and that probably included cooking her meals. He wondered if she would be disappointed by his meager offerings. Perhaps he should go to the market and fetch something? Or maybe go to the Hawke estate and get Bodahn to help prepare a meal. He dusted the lingering crumbs off of himself and decided that when Hawke woke up, he would simply ask her. He had to learn to let his guard down at least a little bit, and trust that she was not going to run away simply because he didn't have any food in his house. He decided to let sleeping hawks lie for now, and went to the study. He had picked up one of Varric's serials, and started reading them. He was slow at it, but he enjoyed the story thoroughly. He couldn't tell his friend this, of course, because he knew once he did, Varric would use it as a selling point. "Even illiterate slaves will learn to read just to get their hands on my stories!" he could almost hear the dwarf bragging already.

The day wore on, and Fenris had made good progress in his book. Hawke hadn't woken yet, and he went to check on her again. It was unlike her to waste a day in bed. Normally she was an early riser, he had known this from past experience of sharing her bed and also sharing a camp with her. She was usually up well before sunrise and she was usually one of the last to bed. Sleep must not matter when one is a mage, he thought grumpily. If there was one freedom the elf particularly enjoyed, it was napping. Maybe he would just climb back into bed with his beloved and call it a day.

He entered his bedroom and stopped. He would certainly love to get in bed with Hawke and cuddle up, but obviously that was no longer an option. Hawke was not in bed. She was floating above it, and the room was crackling with electricity, caging her in.

"Hawke!" Fenris shouted and rushed in, but he couldn't get to her. Every time he tried to reach out and grab a hold of her, he got shocked. She didn't appear to be in pain, and she didn't seem to notice him, either. In fact, she didn't even appear to be awake. Fenris had never seen anything like this before, not even when he was present for Danarius's blood sacrifices and all the horrible rituals he had to observe.

He cursed under his breath, standing well back from the lightning cage, unsure of who to turn to.

Eventually he decided that he needed to see a mage, and that meant Anders. Anders was an abomination, seemingly possessed by a spirit of Justice, however Fenris felt it was more a demon, and the two never saw eye to eye. If there was a redeeming quality to the mage- and Fenris wasn't saying there was- it would be that he had never seen Anders resort to blood magic. In fact, he seemed to be wholeheartedly against it, unlike Merrill. Fenris gritted his teeth, balled his hand into a fist, and punched the wall, swearing as the blow connected. He stormed out of his house, not even caring that the wall had cracked from the floor to the ceiling.

He knew the mage would be in his clinic, in Darktown. Fenris hated going there, the smell of the sewers and filthy creatures that dwelled in the undercity wrinkled his nose. It reminded him too much of the slave quarters at Danarius's estate in Minrathous. He ran, not trusting Hawke to be left alone in such a state. He kept thinking if he had just stayed in the bedroom with her, he might have been able to stop this. He wondered how much of it was his own fault for not being careful enough, and how much of it he could honestly control. The answer to both questions would hopefully lie with Blondie, and the sooner he got there, the better.

He arrived at the clinic in what he felt was record time, and paused only for a moment to regain some measure of control over his breathing. He had a lot of stamina from fighting and normally running didn't leave him this winded, but he felt that he couldn't catch his breath. Everything was swimming in front of his eyes and he was shaking his head, desperate to clear his vision. It was no use, but again, Fenris didn't want to waste precious time. He barged in, calling for his companion. "Anders! Anders, it's Hawke! You have to come with me, now!"

Anders was leaned over a patient, healing magic glowing at his fingertips, being gently coaxed into the patient's broken arm. The blood stopped flowing, the flesh knit together, and there was a loud and unsettling crack as the bones reset themselves. Anders patted the patient on the shoulder and sent him off. "You should be fine. Take it easy though, I don't want to see you back in here tomorrow." He shook his hands and turned to the elf. "Fenris? I hardly ever see you in my clinic. You mentioned something about Hawke? Did she blow herself up again?" He chuckled, but caught the serious look on the elf's face. "Oh, it's something important, isn't it? Let's go, you can fill me in on the way."

Fenris nodded and set off again, turning on his heel abruptly and jogging out of the clinic, Anders just steps behind him. When they got back to Hightown, Fenris had filled Anders in on what was happening, but Anders had stopped him.

"Wait, so you saw Hawke, floating in the air, surrounded by a ball of electricity? In her home?" Anders was puzzled. Fenris never went to her estate, as far as he knew. He didn't keep many tabs on the elf, seeing as the two of them were always at odds about magic, he kept his mouth shut and away from Fenris whenever he had the chance.

"No, she is in my home." Fenris said in a matter of fact manner, and proceeded to his mansion. "I didn't know what to do with her, so I left her to get you."

Anders scratched his head. "But what did you do to her in your house? Did you hurt her? What is going on?" He followed anyway, but he was getting suspicious and he didn't like where this was going. The elf was genuinely afraid, and while Anders knew that he had no love for magic, he wasn't usually afraid of it. This meant that it was either really bad, or really, really, bad.

The pair hurried to Fenris's bedroom where Anders could hear the buzzing and crackling of electricity, and he pushed open the door. Sure enough, it was just as the elf had said, that Hawke was suspended in a lightning ball cage, unmoving, seemingly unconscious. "Well, I've never seen anything like that before," the mage muttered under his breath, edging closer. The static was filling the air, causing his hair to stand on end. He moved to just under Hawke, reaching his hand up to touch the cage. It shocked him, and he cried out, but put his hand up again, this time summoning a barrier spell. He was able to push his hand inside the cage and grabbed Hawke by her ankle. As soon as he touched her, the spell was broken, and she dropped out of the air, knocking Anders off of his feet and tossing her on him.

"Oof," he cried out. "I was not expecting that! She's… denser than she looks." He shook his head and looked down at the unconscious young woman. "Wait. Is she… Why is she naked!?" He pushed her off of him quickly and stood up, backing away, and looking anywhere but at her.

Fenris shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, clearing his throat, but not meeting the mage's gaze. "You mean… you and Hawke?" Anders clapped his hands. "Oh, but isn't this a fine mess! You, the anti-magic elf, and Hawke, the mage. Varric will have a field day about this! I bet it becomes a new romance series!"

"Is this really appropriate?" Fenris had moved to Hawke's side. She was breathing, but still unconscious. He tenderly brushed her hair aside from her face. "Is she going to be alright?" he asked without looking up. It would be just his luck, he thought, that this would end up hurting Hawke and again, he would be all alone.

Anders knelt down and lifted one of Hawke's eyelids, then he put his head to her chest to hear her heartbeat, and inspected her body, apparently no longer concerned that she was naked. He was in healer mode now, and Hawke his patient, so he was going to be thorough in his examination.

Finally he gave a thumbs up to the elf. "She's fine, physically, it seems." His eyebrows knitted together and he frowned slightly. "I've seen this happen before, in the Circle. Mages who overdosed on lyrium. It is usually only when they attempted a spell that was out of their element. Mostly apprentices who weren't experienced enough to realize what the blue juice does to you." He patted Fenris on the shoulder, who flinched in disgust at his touch. "She should be all right soon, most of the time it's only a few days being knocked out, but this seems like it was a pretty severe reaction. Was...was she using magic?" He wanted to phrase this politely, without delving into the elf's personal life too much. "In bed, I mean."

Fenris growled. "No she didn't use any magic on me. It was perfectly normal sex between two perfectly normal-" Anders interrupted, lifting up his hands. "Too much information, friend." He motioned to Hawke. "Let's put her back in bed. Do you want to move her to her estate, so that she can rest more comfortably?" Fenris shook his head. "It would look a bit odd for an escaped elf and a renegade mage to be carrying the naked champion through Hightown. We would have the guard on us in minutes, if not the Templars." Anders knew that Fenris was right.

"Well, it's best if Bodahn knows where she is, and I will tell the others too. Do you want someone to come stay with you, while you wait for her to wake?" He could tell that Fenris was on edge. The elf kept clenching his jaw and his hands were balled into fists. "No." the elf said flatly. Anders just nodded, and turned to go. As he reached the door, he had a sudden thought.

"Your tattoos are made of lyrium, aren't they?" Fenris eyed the mage warily. "You know that they are." Anders shrugged. "Well, I was just thinking, perhaps Hawke didn't drink any lyrium potions, but perhaps..she ingested it some other way." He tried his best to look nonchalant, but his eyes twinkleed with mischief. "Say, if perhaps, she was exposed to any fluids near a lyrium source, it would be imbued with its power."

The elf's dark green eyes flashed wide, and he quickly looked away from the healer. Staring at the floor, the ceiling, and anywhere but Anders, Fenris mumbled something that sounded like that might have happened once or twice the previous night.

"How should I put this tactfully?" mused the mage. "It seems your own vintage of lyrium potion is quite, ah, potent. No doubt a reason that you were so prized by your former master."

"Danarius never-" Fenris started, then changed his mind half way through. "Danarius always said that my markings were like a conduit, one that he or any other mage could tap into at will. I don't know how powerful I am in that regards, but whatever I am, or was, it didn't stop him from using blood magic as well."

The healer nodded, not saying anything. He knew that Fenris would always resent magic, and in a way, that was why they were similar. Where Fenris was subjected to the abuses of power that magic held, Anders was on the opposite, subjected to the torture that mages faced daily, just for having magical powers, whether or not they used them.

"If it helps, it's not really that dangerous." He smiled weakly. "Hawke is very powerful, and an accomplished mage, so she probably was just too exhausted from all your, um, dancing? Right, dancing."

Fenris rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Is it really that hard to believe that I have been with a woman, mage?" Anders laughed. "The most unbelievable part is not that you were with anyone, but it was with a mage. It just means that we aren't all as bad as you think."

The elf scowled. "Hawke doesn't have a demon living in her head. As for the rest of you, it's safe to say that you always need to be watched."

Anders shrugged. "Justice isn't a demon, he's a spirit of well, justice. He wanted Danarius dead, he isn't pro-mage, or pro-templar. He is just pro-justice. He feels compelled to right any and all wrongs, and he is raw emotion. But I am not going to explain myself to you, because I know that we will never agree. I really need to be going now, to tell the others about Hawke. If you need anything, send someone to get me. Otherwise, I will return in the morning to check on her myself." He opened Fenris' door and the cool air of the night came rushing in, ruffling both men's hair. "I am happy for you, you know. She's a good woman, and you deserve to be happy." And with that, he stepped out into the night.

Fenris stood, staring at his door. I will never understand humans, he thought to himself and he returned to his bedroom where he sat at the foot of the bed, the silent guardian over his beloved Hawke.

The hours of the night had ticked by slowly, and Fenris was thankful to see that morning did in fact come. He was beginning to wonder if the sun would even bother rising, His mood had turned sour over the course of the night, every glance at his slumbering lady causing him to worry more, which made him grumpier. Her situation hadn't changed, so Fenris had not needed to send for Anders, and he wasn't even sure there was anything Anders could do for her anyway. He got up and stretched, easing tense muscles, flexing fingers and toes, relaxing shoulders. He had been on edge since this whole affair began, and it looked like it wasn't going to be over anytime soon.

His back cracked and he groaned. Maybe he was getting too old, or he needed to relax, because he had been sore for a few days now. He knew that Hawke had been a little rough, but he was not unaccustomed to rough treatment, and he was fairly active. He kept up his training, and it took a lot of work to hoist a two-handed axe like it weighed nothing. A sudden realization hit him. He was sore. His tattoos didn't hurt. Anders' comments. Danarius used to call forth the lyrium in his skin, to help fuel his rituals. It always left Fenris feeling on edge, a little tetchy. He never put it together before, but now he was starting to puzzle it out.

He had to know for sure. He summoned the magic infused in his skin and tried to phase punch his wall. Nothing. He didn't even glow. He tried again, concentrating harder, but still nothing happened. He realized he couldn't hear the humming, the buzzing that filled his ears when he summoned his power. He couldn't feel it coursing through his very blood, and the faintly blue aura that shimmered around the edge of his vision in the heat of the moment was gone too.

Hawke had absorbed all of his lyrium. She had taken it all into herself. Did she know that is what would happen? How could she, he thought, when he had just now pieced it together himself. He felt so stupid. The first time that they had slept together, he was in so much pain from his marks that he stayed away from Hawke for three years. Why didn't he realize that something had happened, when he specifically recalled not being in pain after rolling around in the sheets with her? Was he too distracted to think about it properly? He cursed, kicking the chest at the foot of the bed, the wood cracked in protest.

Fenris moved to Hawke's side, his eyes absorbing every detail. Her breathing seemed more regular and she was not glowing or on fire. He felt her forehead. She felt hot, like she was coming down with a fever, and her lips were bluish, like she was cold. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Hawke!" He shook her a little harder, digging his fingers into her skin. "Hawke! Wake up!"

Still, his little bird slept, completely unaware of her surroundings. He choked back a sob as fears flooded his mind. What if she never woke? What if she died? What would he do then? He couldn't wait for Anders to get here, he was going to go get the healer himself and he was going to demand that Anders do something. No, not demand. Beg.

He was halfway to the entrance hall when he saw Anders coming his way. "Ah, good morning!" Anders said cheerfully. "How is Hawke?" His face fell when he saw the intense look on the elf's face. It was broodier than normal, which meant that Hawke was not awake yet, and that could be problematic.

Anders rushed to her bedside and his suspicions were confirmed. She had all the signs. This was going to make things a little more difficult. He rubbed his temples. "Fenris, you might want to sit down." He knew the elf wasn't going to like this, especially because of how Anders intended to fix it.

"Tell me what is going on," Fenris said, tensing up. If Anders didn't tell him what was going on soon, he was going to lose his temper and beat it out of the human.

"She's trapped in the Fade, where we go when we dream…" Anders started. "And also the realm of spirits and demons." He looked at Hawke, before continuing on. "It's possible she just got stuck dreaming. Overdosing on the dust can do that to a person, but it is usually Templars who have the problem, not mages." He drummed his fingertips together. "She might also be trapped by a demon, and if that is the case, we need to send someone into the Fade to rescue her, and help guide her back to this realm. Leaving her unattended could have disastrous consequences, ranging anywhere from her death or to her becoming an abomination."

"How do we do that?" Fenris said, glaring at the healer. More demons. Why is it always demons with mages? He did not understand Anders, or the oppression that mages here in Kirkwall felt. It was better than the alternative, which was the Imperium.

"We need someone to go into the Fade, to help save her," Anders continued, sighing heavily. "The problem is, I can't go into the Fade. Not with Justice, so that doesn't leave a lot of options."

"What other options are there?" Fenris was getting more annoyed by the second. He started pacing around the room.

"Well, we can't send Merrill, since she already makes deals with demons, that is not going to help Hawke," Anders carried on. "So that leaves either the Circle of Magi, and we know that the Knight-Commander would lock up Hawke, or worse, and you."

"Me? What do I have to do with this?" Fenris hated anything to do with magic and now he was going to go into the Fade, where it all went wrong to begin with, if one believed what the Chant of Light said.

"It has to be a person that Hawke trusts, so that she can be woken safely. If it's not someone who has a deep connection with her, then she is likely to be confused." Anders said, soothingly. "Hawke obviously cares a great deal about you, and you must feel the same way, otherwise I think you'd have suggested we behead her already."

The elf grunted in response, and Anders knew that he had made his point. "Listen, Fenris, I know it is not ideal. You aren't a mage, and you aren't as ...accustomed to the dangers of the Fade that most mages are. It will be dangerous for you, but it is even more dangerous for Hawke."

"What do I need to do?" Fenris asked, his mouth going dry. This was all his fault. If Hawke hadn't slept with him, she would be safe. He had to fix this. He had to save her. He wouldn't let magic take this away from him too. "I've never been to the Fade."

"It will be alright, Fenris. I will put you to sleep, and you will wake in the Fade, where you already go when you sleep. You will be able to find Hawke since you are so close to her physically, then you just ...rescue her."

Fenris stopped pacing, and stared at the renegade mage with his dark eyes. "And what if she can't be rescued? How do I rescue her? It's not like I can take my axe with me or anything! I don't know what to do."

"Calm down, remember the Fade is a place that is ruled and shaped by emotions. Spirits of Faith and Courage dwell there, as well as demons embodying our sins. If you believe that you will find Hawke, you will find her. If you believe you can rescue her, you will. If you believe that all is lost and she was taken by demons, well that is likely to happen." Anders said gravely. This was serious, sending the elf to the Fade. He didn't want his companion to be unprepared, but he also didn't want to put the elf on edge any more than he already was. The Fade was a dangerous place, even to the most experienced mage, and Fenris was no mage. All the elf had to guard his mind against demons was his will, and Anders had to hope that that was enough.

"Hawke probably has a bunch of lyrium at her estate. If she doesn't have it, Bodahn will, since Sandal needs it for his rune making. We need to go get some, and then I can do the spell that will send you to the Fade." He put his hand on Fenris' shoulder, and for once, the elf didn't push him away. "I know it is frightening, and if I could go in your place, I would. But I would not suggest sending you if I did not think you were capable, and I will not let you come to harm."

"Unbelievable," Fenris muttered. "Of all the things I wanted to do today, placing my life in the hands of an abomination to enter the Fade was not even on that list."

Anders frowned. "I know what you think of me, Fenris. And you're right, I am an abomination, but I am also your friend and Hawke's so if you don't trust me, trust that I would never do anything to harm Hawke." Without another word, he left the mansion to go get the lyrium he needed to perform the ritual to send the elf to the Fade.

Fenris started pacing again, swearing in Qunlat. He kept throwing dirty looks at the door, wondering just how long it took Anders to go across the street. His hands were shaky, and he couldn't stop fidgeting. Danarius had often talked about the Fade to Fenris, saying it was a wonderful place of untapped power and potential. Those with enough skill and cunning, he had said, could rule the Fade and thus the mortal realm. The thought had never held any appeal to Fenris, in fact, it had revolted him. Now, in a cruel twist of irony, he was to go into the Fade himself to save the woman he loved.

Anders returned, arms full of lyrium bottles and behind him came Varric, who was carrying a large box. "There you are!" Fenris pounced, ready to chew out the mage. "You took your sweet time returning here."

"Nice to see you too, elf." Varric grunted, setting the large box down at the edge of the bed. "If I knew that Hawke was going to go get herself trapped in the Fade, I wouldn't have helped you get in her tunic." The rogue looked at Hawke, sleeping on the bed, as she twitched and thrashed occasionally.

"This is some weird shit, and this is even weirder than when Bartrand thought the idol was singing to him." He sat down in the empty chair next to the bed, propping his stubby legs on the edge of mattress.

"What are you doing here?" Fenris said, then turned to the mage. "What is he doing here?"

"Relax, Fenris," Varric said, putting his hands up in a mock defensive manner. "I ran into Blondie outside of Hawke's place, and he explained what was going on. I offered to come and help out."

Fenris didn't want to admit it, but he felt better knowing that the roguish dwarf was there. He didn't trust Anders, and he knew the mage knew that as well. "Let's just get this over with. What do I need to do?"

Anders instructed the elf to lay down on the bed, so Fenris climbed onto the four poster and laid next to Hawke, his body tense and rigid. Anders then had Varric hand him lyrium as he started weaving the spell that would send the elf's consciousness into the Fade. After several moments of working, the ritual was complete, and Fenris's body relaxed as he was sent to sleep, his mind now in the Fade.

Anders wiped the sweat from his brow and Varric shrugged. "And now, we wait."