Cold water jolted him out of a dead sleep. Anders sputtered and flailed, trying to understand where the sudden dowsing had come from. It did not take long to spot Varric, Fenris, and Isabella standing over his bed, the pirate holding the bucket shamelessly.

"Get up Magie. Time to rejoin the world."

Anders glared at the three of them as the familiar emptiness settled into his heart. Marian… Slowly the mage stood from the now soaking wet bed. He carefully made his way over to the crib in the corner of the room and felt panic assault him, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"Where…?"

"She's fine Anders. Been fed, burped, changed, and is getting some fresh air with Merrill. There will be no hiding behind her this time."

It was true: every time someone tried to speak with the mage, Anders had used Kylee as an excuse to avoid them. But apparently that excuse was gone so he slumped against the wall, his eyes never leaving the empty crib.

"Well then, what is it?"

"You have been hiding in this hovel for a month. Do you intend to move or simply count on us to reroute the Templars indefinitely?" Leave it to Fenris to be blatantly honest.

"You need a plan Blondie. We all do. And you can't stay here anymore."

Hopelessness swelled within him. "Perhaps you should let them find me."

Varric could not believe what he was hearing. "What?"

"Let them find me. What could they possibly do that is worse than this?"

"Anders, if the Templars catch you you'll get the brand for sure. You'll be made Tranquil, then hauled back to Kirkwall for the victory parade!"

"Perhaps that would be best..." Certainly better than the empty hole of despair that rested resolutely where his heart had been.

No one saw it, it happened so fast. Fenris crossed the room in two strides and struck Anders with his gauntleted fist, causing the mage to crash to the floor. His mouth was bloody where the elf had struck him and he was certain he was spitting out teeth for a moment.

"Elf!"

"Enough!" Fenris stood over the crumpled mage, his lyrium brands glowing brightly. "I have heard enough of your wallowing! Do you believe yours is the only life at stake?" A gauntleted finger pointed to the cradle a few feet away. "What do you think will happen to her if the Templars come for you?"

Anders felt his body stiffen. He had not considered the possibility.

Isabella took up the argument, albeit more gently than Fenris had. "She will be left for the wolves. Or stuck in one of those circles you like so well. Is that what you want for your daughter?"

Anders sighed and closed his eyes against the reality threatening his isolation. How could he have been so selfishly blind? The thought of his and Marian's child dead or thrust into a lifetime of imprisonment… Rage stirred in the back of his mind and he rose to his feet, eyes searching each face in turn. "You are right. I… I'm sorry. I've been foolish. I just…"

Varric stepped forward this time, placing a hand on Anders' arm. "We get it Blondie. You're not the only one who lost her." Anders nodded his thanks, not trusting his own voice. A moment of silent understanding passed between the four companions before Isabella crossed her arms.

"So, what IS the plan then?"

"We go to Amaranthine."

"To the Wardens?"

Anders nodded, choking back a nervous laugh. Encountering the Commander of the Grey in Orzammar had seemed like a curse at the time. But after her rage had subsided completely she had disgruntledly admitted that she was happy to see him. Elissa's parting words before the Wardens set out had surprised the mage. "If you ever need help," she'd threatened, "but do not ask for it, I will personally tan your hide then find my way to the fade and do the same to Justice."

"The Warden Commander is a good woman, a good friend. She will help us. Besides…" Grief clouded Anders face as he considered this new option, "can you think of anyone better to protect Kylee than Carver?"