From then on Hawke spent most of his time in the ritual chamber, bowing over documents which had presumably been written by Danarius. So far he stayed true to his word and kept sending Feynriel away with excuses. However, with all the texts having been written in Arcanum, Hawke was forced to ask for Elias' help again with the translation. Although he was clearly not happy to rely on the slave anymore, he was left with little choice. To not raise Hawke's suspicions, Fenris often descended into the cellars to stare at a dusty piece of parchment as well, but he always left as quickly as he could and failed to make much progress. Somehow, being in that room upset him even more than being in any other part of the mansion - Danarius' old bedroom excepted.

Soon enough the day of his meeting with the apostate mages' leader arrived. Fenris was already regretting that he had agreed to meet just before midnight. Not only did his markings attract attention in the dark by randomly lighting up, it had also become nearly impossible to stay awake that long. His energy was depleting faster each day. That, and Hawke was watching him like a... well, like a hawk. Fenris knew very well that another nightly stroll through Minrathous would not escape Hawke's attention and would not be appreciated. Another argument thus seemed inevitable. But perhaps it would finally make Hawke realize that this was important to Fenris, and that he could not remain in Tevinter and do nothing while the magisters continued to abuse their slaves. He had shown Hawke the ritual chamber. That should be enough to let Hawke know that he had not given up. Not completely. It would have to do. If the price for the freedom of numerous slaves was another disagreement and heated exchange with Hawke, Fenris was willing to pay it.

During the night of Fenris' meeting with the resistance's leader, Fenris stayed in the ritual chamber with Hawke and Elias as long as he could stand. Hawke's initial excitement about this grand discovery had waned, now that they struggled to decipher the meaning of Danarius' documentation. Even when translated to the common tongue, the words made little sense to them. The ritual seemed to be of an advanced level of magic that far surpassed Hawke's knowledge.

Approximately two hours before midnight Fenris got out of his chair. "I'm going to bed."

Hawke looked up and smiled briefly before turning back to his documents. "Okay, sleep well."

Fenris nodded and rubbed one of his arms. The markings burned and itched. He could scarcely believe that it would be this easy. But then again, what was Hawke supposed to do? Escort him to bed? Of course Hawke would notice his absence after an hour or so, but then he would already be gone. Fenris suppressed the sting of guilt as he walked through the hidden passage. It hurt to have to betray Hawke's trust again, but as long as Hawke refused to get involved, Fenris saw no other way. They each had the right to make their own choice. That was what it meant to be free.

It was cold outside. Fenris' breath fogged as soon as it left his mouth. He glanced around, scanned his surroundings, to make sure Hawke or a magister had not sent someone to shadow him. Everything looked quiet and peaceful. Fenris embraced the cold, grasping everything that helped to stay awake, and started walking.

His pace was slow, every step a greater task than the previous. He hoped he would be alert enough for his planned meeting. If the mages were less honorable in their intentions than they had pretended, he might be in trouble. The itch of his markings became worse at that concerning thought. Was it not foolish of him to go to a secret meeting in the middle of the night all by himself? What if the mages had planned an ambush? It would not be the first time that a group of desperate outlaws had kidnapped someone close to Hawke in hopes of forcing his cooperation. Fenris wanted to hit himself for not considering this possibility before he had set foot outside to wander Minrathous' streets at night. His entire life and this entire city was proof of how mages could not be trusted, and yet here he was, about to try to reach an agreement with apostates, which all depended on their honesty and sincerity. If someone - probably Hawke - had told Fenris this years ago, he would have laughed at him.

Now, the demons were laughing.

Fenris guessed it was still an hour before midnight when he reached the harbor. He had no idea whom he was waiting for, and when that person would show up. Petra had told him to be here before midnight, so he assumed the person he was supposed to meet would arrive before midnight as well. At least he hoped that would be the case. Waiting for another hour would likely be too much to ask. Already his legs felt weak and his mind was drifting, his eyes threatening to close.

He started pacing to stay active and keep his blood flowing. He wondered if Hawke had already discovered his absence, and how he would take it. Not well, undoubtedly. The night they had become intimate again had brought them closer, much closer than they had been in the past few months, but not everything could be solved so easily. The fact that Fenris was here said as much.

"You are easy to spot," said a voice coming from behind.

Fenris turned around and saw Petra standing a few steps away from him. He was almost too tired to care that she had managed to sneak up on him. "At the moment I am a burning beacon wherever I go," he replied. "I'm afraid there is nothing I can do to hide."

She nodded to indicate that she understood. "That is your problem?" she asked, staring at the glowing markings. "That is why you and the Champion came here?"

"That's none of your concern. Where is your leader?"

Petra gestured in the direction she had probably come from. "He is waiting. Follow me."

As they walked, the female mage observed Fenris from the corner of her eyes. "He spoke of having to save your life," she said after a while. "Is it really that serious? Are those... things killing you?"

She waited for a reply, but Fenris gave none.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"Soon you'll be with us forever."

"How long have you managed to stay awake today? Six hours? Five?"

Seven. Perhaps eight. That correction failed to reassure. Fenris was well aware of his condition and the steep decline his endurance suffered. If he was not worrying about it himself, the demons were always quick to remind him.

When it became clear to her that Fenris was unwilling to chat, Petra shrugged and silently led him through the streets. After perhaps ten minutes they reached one of Minrathous' current slums. Every now and then the magisters sent a detachment of guards to clear those clusters of poverty and drive away the homeless, but as soon as they had left, people began to return. They had nowhere else to go, even if they were not welcome and the magisters saw them as a stain on their otherwise perfect city.

Because Minrathous was a walled city there was not much space for slums, so the refugees and apostates had set up their tents on one of the older market squares - one of the primary reasons the magisters wanted to be rid of them. Due to the cold, everyone was staying in their tent. Fenris was grateful for the lack of staring eyes and gaping mouths.

The tent Petra guided him to did not differ in any way from those around it. If it was larger than the others, it was only by a fraction. Petra stuck her head through the opening. "He is here," she said. Then she turned to Fenris. "You can go in."

Fenris nodded and stepped inside, with fists clenched in anticipation, to meet the mages' illustrious leader. He was not sure what or whom he had expected, but it certainly was not the familiar face that looked up at him when he entered the tent. At the same time it had been so obvious that Fenris was cursing himself for not realizing it sooner. Surprise and anger about having been duped froze him on his spot, leaving him only able to stare.

"I was expecting Hawke." Anders frowned and got up from the crate he had been sitting on. He looked the same as he had on their final day in Kirkwall. He still wore the robes with the black feathers, despite the filth that now clung to them. Only the fanaticism in his eyes seemed to have grown stronger. They burned with the unshakeable belief that he was doing the right thing.

Fenris had to swallow heavily before he managed to speak. "He is not coming. Did the woman not tell you that?"

"She did, but I was still not expecting you." Anders' eyes went over the active markings on Fenris' arms. "Are you here to try to kill me again?"

When a worried Hawke had confessed to Fenris that Anders had convinced him to distract the Grand Cleric, Fenris had gone to Anders' clinic to demand an explanation. In an attempt to crush the threat the abomination posed, Fenris had tried to kill the abomination when he refused to cooperate. Unfortunately the demon that the mage harbored within himself had taken over and surprised Fenris, forcing him to flee the clinic and wait for events to unfold. A few days later the Chantry had exploded. Neither had forgotten their encounter and their past differences.

Fenris shook his head, more or less hoping that the demons had conjured up Anders to torment him. "You." Breaking free from the initial surprise, he took a step forward. "What are you doing here?"

"I go where my fellow mages have need of me," Anders replied with a smile.

"And I suppose it's pure coincidence that Hawke is here as well, and that you are trying to use him again for your cause."

"Many mages who wish to be free have fled to Tevinter."

"What about Hawke?"

"He is important. He is the free mage who saved Kirkwall from the Qunari, saved the Circle of Kirkwall from the Right of Annulment, and I understand he has also single-handedly defeated a magister in a duel."

He had help. Fenris could still clearly picture the slave with her arm cut open from wrist to elbow to fuel magister Gaius' blood magic. He vividly recalled his hands around her head and the sound her neck had made when he snapped it. He asked himself how much her death had contributed to his determination to take action against the ways of the magisters, but he had no definitive answer. She was one of the many, but he would never forget her pleading eyes on him.

Meanwhile, Anders prattled on. "Hawke has become the ultimate symbol for mages' freedom. Somehow he is more inspiring than I could ever be. Everyone here knows his name, knows of his deeds. He has a responsibility towards those who have not been so lucky to escape the Circle system their entire life."

Hello, Justice. "You can't drag Hawke into a war with the magisters."

"Oh, so only you can?"

"What have you been doing then?"

The abomination eyed him critically. "You do realize I could keep you here as leverage?"

What a surprise. Always the same ideas that spring from a treacherous mage's mind. Sweat rolled down the back of Fenris' neck. Despite his uneasiness, he managed to keep his voice flat. "Have you forgotten what Hawke did with the last people who tried that?"

Anders' forehead wrinkled slightly. "Perhaps he will be more willing when he deals with an old friend."

A dry chuckle escaped Fenris. "You're even madder than I thought if you believe that Hawke still considers you a friend. Your role in Carver's survival is the only reason you yet live."

Anders' face saddened. "In another life, things could have been different between us. It is unfortunate... but I suppose you're right."

"Stay away from Hawke. Leave him out of this. I do not mean this as a threat, but as a warning."

The abomination's eyes studied Fenris' face, measuring the sincerity of his words. Fenris thought he saw a spark of blue in the amber, but it was so brief that he was not certain if he had really seen it. "Is that why you have come here, then?" Anders asked. "To warn me?"

Fenris hesitated. He was not certain if he should entrust his ideas to the abomination. Anders was truly obsessed by his fight for the freedom of mages. Anything else would likely be overshadowed by this. Was it worth it to involve the lives of slaves if they would only be seen as a useful tool? Fenris would never put his own fate in the hands of a possessed mage, so how could he place that of others there? On the other hand, Anders' devotion might be exactly what a rebellion against the magisters' rule needed, and if Fenris could convince him of the justness of freeing slaves, the spirit - or demon - might expand this devotion to include that goal. A better chance than this was unlikely to occur again soon. The Imperium's slavery could continue for generations if they did not risk this.

"No." The word came with a sigh. "That's not why I came. I... have a proposition."

"I'm listening." Curiosity and suspicion warred for the upper hand on Anders' face.

"If you want to bring down the magisters, you need to rally the slaves."

"That's not exactly a proposition."

Fenris shrugged. "Advice then. Call it what you want. There are thousands of slaves in Minrathous alone. If you can unite your mages with them and rise up as one, you may stand a chance."

Anders scratched his head through his blond hair, which was still partially tied back in a sloppy ponytail. "Interesting," he mumbled. He took two steps to the left, turned to the right, then stopped in the middle of the tent again. "It would be just to free the slaves," he mused. "They, too, must suffer under the magisters' reign. Do you think they'll side with us?"

"You will have to gain their trust, but I am certain that once you do, many slaves will be willing to stand with you."

"Hmm. It is worth considering, although I'm afraid that our own numbers are dwindling quickly. At this rate we will soon be unable to oppose the force of the magisters."

Fenris now remembered what Petra had said about their leader's suspicions about the dreamers. "You think the mages are being driven insane by somniari? Can blood magic not influence their dreams as well?"

Anders nodded. "Normally, yes, but we have the Litany or Adralla, which should protect against blood magic. The dreams are so powerful that the Litany is unable to stop them, however. Justice also senses a powerful disturbance in the Fade during the nights of the attacks. That's why I think this is not just blood magic at work. I don't know how many magisters have the powers of a dreamer, but there have to be at least one or two."

So Feynriel has not remained as innocent as Hawke would believe. "The somniari Hawke saved in Kirkwall is here," Fenris told him. "Feynriel. I do not know which magisters could be dreamers, but Feynriel is the apprentice of magister Claudius, so he might be one as well."

"Probably two then. I was afraid of this. Justice protects me while I sleep, but the others are not so lucky. When I arrived here, they were about to give up and flee. I managed to give them hope again, but as long as the attacks continue..." Anders smiled thinly. "The magisters are no easy opponents."

Fenris thought of Claudius' dark eyes and smooth smile. They definitely are not.

"You should probably get back," Anders told him. "Give Hawke my regards." He smiled again, more warmly this time. "Tell him I will not waste the second chance he has given me."

Fenris had enough to think about during his journey back to the mansion. Even if Hawke was unhappy about his secret meeting, he would likely be interested in hearing that Anders was in the city, and that Feynriel was involved in the assaults on the minds of the apostates. Fenris hoped he had done the right thing to share his idea with Anders, and that it would lead to something good. Should he wait and see how things would develop now? Or try something by himself again? But what?

He decided he was too tired to come up with a strategy for the future at the moment. All that counted now was returning to the estate so he could sleep.

He was exhausted by the time he finally arrived at his destination. Silently hoping that Hawke had already gone to bed, Fenris opened the door.

Immediately he saw that Hawke had not gone to bed, but was waiting for him. He stood in the hallway, his hair messy as if he had run his hands through it countless times. Hawke looked tired as he watched Fenris enter the mansion, but at the same time he stood calmly with his hands behind his back. "At least you keep coming back."

Fenris closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I knew you would not approve."

"As if you give a damn about my approval."

"Damian..."

"I need Feynriel's help with the documents. I can't make any sense of them on my own."

Vehemently Fenris shook his head. "No. You know you can't do that. Feynriel cannot -"

Again Hawke interrupted him, as if he had not heard Fenris. "Claudius visited me tonight. After you had left."

A sinking feeling of unease descended upon Fenris. Hawke's reaction was nothing like he had expected. He had prepared himself for more anger, more disappointment, but Hawke appeared to be completely calm. Fenris almost believed the mage was drunk again, but he stood straight and his speech was clear. Whatever Claudius had done... fear screwed Fenris' throat shut. He did not dare to speak, did not dare to guess why Claudius had decided to come by this night. So he waited for Hawke to continue.

But Hawke did not seem in a hurry to enlighten Fenris. "Again I fell for it," he muttered instead. "I can't believe you can make such an idiot out of me. That everybody can... I thought that you would stop, that you would live, but you don't. You don't stop. You're... you're just obsessed with the idea of freeing all the slaves, of heroically leading some kind of grand rebellion."

"I am not -"

"You even want to sacrifice your life for it. For your cause. You remind me of Anders now. Completely consumed by your cause, just like he was."

Fenris took a few steps toward Hawke. "Do not compare me to that abomination!" Even though he had just talked to Anders and even reached some kind of agreement with him, Fenris did not like to be seen as even remotely similar to the possessed mage. After all, he had been fighting the demons' influence for months. He had not given in. He continued to resist. Surely that placed him above Anders! "I am not possessed. I am nothing like him!"

Hawke looked unimpressed and still oddly blank. "You have to stop. You're ruining everything."

Fenris came closer, until he was only two steps away from Hawke. "What did Claudius want, Damian? What did he do? Did he use magic on you?"

"Ha!" Hawke laughed joylessly, then shook his head. "No. He did not need to. The truth was sufficient."

"What truth?" Now he stood close to Hawke, Fenris saw that his blue eyes were clear. He could not discover confusion or haziness in them. No hint of blood magic or mind control. Somehow that frightened him even more. "You know you can't trust anything he says!"

Hawke's eyebrows drew closer to each other. "He had you followed, you fool. He told me you're conspiring with the apostates from the Circles that have fallen. You want to overthrow the magisters. Do you really think they will let you?" He did not wait for Fenris to answer. "I need you to stop, Fenris. Your life is worth enough as it is. You don't need a grand cause. I fell in love with a man, not a cause. But I know that you won't stop, that you can't stop. I thought you would, but you didn't, so... I will have to stop you."

Fenris backed away. Hawke had that look on his face he always had when he was about to do something stupid, was about to cross a line which would not let him retreat. He had seen it before Hawke had accepted the Arishok's duel, before he had stood against Meredith when she had invoked the Right of Annulment. Before he had kissed Fenris for the first time. But something told Fenris that Hawke had not just decided to kiss him.

Hawke moved his hands from behind his back. Something in his left hand reflected the light that came from the lyrium underneath Fenris' skin. Something round. "I'm sorry, Fenris."

Perhaps once there had been a time Fenris could have resisted the sleep spell, that his markings could have shielded him from the magic. But the markings no longer functioned as they should, and with the constant pull from the Fade it only took a little push to get him to lose consciousness.

When Fenris woke up, he did not immediately recall what had happened. He became aware of the comfort of a soft mattress and pillow, of warm sheets covering him. Nothing extraordinary about that. Blaming the nagging feeling deep inside him on a bad dream, he turned on his side.

Something clanked when he moved.

The left part of the mattress shifted, veered up as if somebody had been sitting there. Fenris opened his eyes and shielded them against the light. He had slept through a large part of the day again. The nagging feeling grew stronger, swelled inside him.

Still shielding his eyes with one hand, Fenris pushed himself up. Again he heard a metallic sound.

He had talked - or argued - with Hawke. Fenris squinted at the silhouette on his left. "Damian?"

He sat upright, and again heard something rattle.

He remembered Hawke's last words: "I'm sorry, Fenris."

There was something around his neck. A weight that did not belong there.

The nagging feeling blew up into panic. Fenris' hand shot from his eyes to his neck. A collar.

The markings flared, feeding on Fenris' arousal. Metal reflecting the lyrium's light had been in Hawke's hand. My collar.

"You left me no choice."

Fenris looked up. He could now recognize Hawke in the silhouette next to the bed. He jumped from the bed, reaching for Hawke, but the other man stepped aside and the chain yanked Fenris back. "Don't. You'll hurt yourself." Hawke said, nervously wringing his hands.

Although the chain was quite long, it was not enough to let Fenris reach past the foot of the bed. He fell back on the bed, gasping for air after the force of his jump had pulled the collar against his windpipe. He struggled against the wild panic that threatened to overcome him now he was chained again. This should not be allowed to happen! He was free, not a slave! He should not have to wear a collar against his will! "Damian..."

"You were endangering everything."

Fenris' fingers wrapped around the collar. He pulled as hard as he could, but the only result was that he was now hurting the back of his neck rather than his throat. When it became clear that the metal would not budge, Fenris looked at Hawke again. "Release me," he rasped.

Hawke just shook his head. In his clear blue eyes Fenris saw something he had seen before, but only now recognized it for what it was. He had always thought Hawke was balancing on the treacherous edge of desperation, but his eyes revealed that he had plummeted over that edge into madness.

With one last pained look at Fenris, Hawke turned around and walked to the door. "Damian!" Fenris yanked at the chain again and trashed on the bed until he fell on the ground. "Hawke! HAWKE!"

In front of the door Hawke looked over his shoulder. "I will save you, Fenris," he said. "Whatever it takes."

And with that Hawke walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.