In the brighter light of Varric's rooms, the change in Anders was more pronounced. Varric, Hawke and Bethany exchanged looks, wondering wordlessly how it was they hadn't noticed before how much thinner Anders looked. Once he had divested himself of his coat, the change was obvious. He had always been slender, but now he looked positively scrawny, all angular bones with dark shadows beneath his eyes. His unwashed hair had been hastily scraped back into a perfunctory ponytail, and his ill-fitting faded grey shirt hung from a frame that was far too sparse. Bethany glanced to Fenris, and the elf shrugged helplessly as if to say, You see?

She nodded wordlessly and glanced back to Anders, who was sitting down at the table and already reaching for the bottle of wine, oblivious to their scrutiny.

"This is rather better than Corff's usual stuff, Varric - are we celebrating?" asked Anders as he glanced up.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," replied Hawke as he took his place opposite Anders. Fenris slipped into his customary place at Anders' left side, whilst Bethany took the place to his right.

"Hawke's finally raised the coin for my brother's Deep Roads expedition," explained Varric before turning to call for a pot of stew, bread and bowls. "Hope you don't mind - I haven't had supper yet, care to join me?" he added.

"Not at all - Beth and I have been out all day and we're starving," agreed Hawke, exchanging a meaningful look with Bethany before glancing to Fenris, who slowly nodded. Anders was still studying the label on the bottle of wine.

"So the Deep Roads expedition is on then?" he asked, finally glancing up.

"Looks that way, and not before time," agreed Hawke.

"You'll be wanting my maps of course," Anders said as he set the bottle down. "How soon will you go?"

"That's up to Bartrand," replied Hawke with a shrug. He leaned forward. "I was rather hoping you would join us?"

"Me?" Anders blinked. "I... I didn't think... what with..." He gestured to his eyepatch.

"Why not?" asked Hawke as he leaned back and regarded Anders thoughtfully. "You've proven yourself over and over as a valuable person to have along." He shifted in his seat and fixed Anders with his intense blue gaze. "Anders, hasn't the past year taught you yet? You have a place with us. You've earned that place with us. We want you with us."

"We all do," agreed Bethany. "Fenris is coming," she added.

Anders turned and stared at Fenris in surprise. "You are?"

"Hawke has need of a warrior. Or two," replied the elf as he took the bottle and poured a generous glass for himself. "You have proven yourself almost as capable as I in that role. But I am not a healer, and Bethany is..."

"Not that good at it," Bethany supplied herself with a chagrined look. "It just doesn't seem to come naturally to me I'm afraid."

Anders dropped his gaze to the table and frowned a little. He bit back the urge to point out that without lyrium, it didn't come to him at all.

They were interrupted by the arrival of the stew. "Have a think about it," suggested Hawke as Varric handed out bowls. Anders nodded slowly.

Food was a good distraction; he couldn't remember how long ago since he'd last eaten. There was breakfast with Fenris, of course - though he hadn't managed to eat much; he'd felt too queasy. He always did when he first woke up. He'd felt better after he'd taken lyrium. Only a little sip - just to keep him going, he'd told himself, until he got to the clinic. He'd meant to eat later, except somehow it was much later and he'd forgotten.

The stew smelled good, and his stomach rumbled loudly as he inhaled the savoury scent. He pressed a hand against his stomach in alarm and glanced round in embarrassment, but no-one else seemed to have noticed. He took up his spoon and began to eat.

The evening passed in quiet conviviality, and Anders slowly relaxed. He had been working hard of late; he'd almost forgotten how much he had once looked forward to these gatherings.

He was unaware of the glances the others exchanged behind his back, or the way Fenris and Hawke slowly nodded to one another, then looked to Bethany; he only looked up when she faltered in the middle of a quiet anecdote of something Merrill had told her in the marketplace a couple of days previously.

"Hmm?" he encouraged her to continue.

"What? - oh, kittens. Yes, Merrill said one of her neighbours had a cat and it's had kittens recently," she said hastily.

"Kittens?" Anders sat up a little straighter. "Do you think any of them are tabbies?"

"I don't know - I'm going to see her tomorrow, why don't you come with me?" she suggested.

"I don't know, I have so much to do -" began Anders, dropping his gaze to his glass of wine.

"You should go, we can spar another morning," rumbled Fenris. "It would do you good to leave Darktown for an hour or two."

Anders reached for his glass and was dismayed to find his hand was trembling. So soon? He cradled the glass with both hands and fervently hoped the others would put it down to simple tiredness. After all, he was always tired these days. The headaches had never fully gone away (and he could fix that, he knew he could fix that, but for some reason the idea of reaching into his own brain to fix the damage wrought there terrified him even though he had done it for others so often - hadn't he done it for that guardsman Aveline brought to him only four days ago? ... it was only four days... wasn't it?) and exhaustion was a constant companion; one of the prices he was paying for a steady consumption of lyrium. But the alternative was unthinkable.

He took a sip of wine to steady himself, aware that Fenris and Bethany were both regarding him expectantly.

"Alright," he heard himself finally say. "That would be nice." He even managed to smile; a brief, flickering ghost of a smile. gone as swiftly as it had come, but it seemed to satisfy Bethany.

Later, in the darkness of the bedroom, he listened to Fenris' quiet breathing as he slept. He rested his head against the sleeping elf's tattooed breast and felt his heart beating strong and steady, and he knew he couldn't let Fenris walk into the Deep Roads without him.

"Bethany, please. Don't go."

"Mother, please, everyone's looking!" Bethany's voice was a hiss of embarrassment as she shifted from one foot to the other, acutely aware of the disapproving glare of Varric's brother. Leandra turned to her eldest child.

"Garrett, please..."

Anders turned away and busied himself with checking the contents of his healing kit for what must have been the fourteenth time that morning. Though the day was warm, his hands felt cold, though they didn't tremble. Not yet, at any rate.

He patted his belt pouches, reassured by the feel of the small, precious vials in one. He'd counted them carefully. Two weeks, Hawke had said; Anders had carefully counted out his vials. One for each day, and five more "just in case". Nineteen slender glass vials filled with the precious blue liquid. Of course, Bethany would have her own supply; but lately she'd been a little more reluctant to part with it, and there had been awkward questions.

He wished he'd dared buy more, but Varric was already showing signs of being suspicious about the amounts he'd been purchasing recently, and Anders was not so foolish as to risk approaching smugglers directly himself.

Not yet, at any rate.

Fenris nudged Anders then nodded over towards Hawke, who was stalking back towards the group with a face like thunder, Bethany a step behind him, her face red with embarrassment.

"Sorry about that, Bartrand," Hawke said breezily. "All taken care of now."

The dwarf shot him a dark look but merely grunted before turning away and shouting orders.

Hawke turned to Anders. "All ready?"

He drew a deep breath. "As I'll ever be," he replied. Hawke clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.

"Good man." He turned away to speak to his sister, and Anders exhaled slowly. He was not looking forward to this.