Long after the battle ended in the Gallows, Fenris returned to the scene of Meredith and Orsino's confrontation – the one that had ended in a beam of light that lit Kirkwall's sky like a beacon from the cruelest part of the Fade.
He had taken a seat on the stairs and pulled out a rag to buff the blood off his sword's blade and hilt, for all the world as though the first battle in a war that would convulse the continent had not just been fought with him as a key player.
He hummed something under his breath, wiping the sword until it gleamed before taking out a whetstone and oil to freshen up the edge on his blade. He was still blood-spattered, his white hair matted with blood that had gone to maroon as it dried, the red favor on his wrist almost blackened with the blood of demons and abominations, mages and templars.
He finished sharpening his blade and simply set it across his knees, waiting.
The evening moved on, scented by smoke, blood, and raw magic, the wind carrying occasional sounds of people struggling to restore any sense or order to a world that had exploded in chaos.
Still Fenris waited.
Fog rolled in for an hour after full dark, muffling the sound as though the city and Gallows had been swaddled in cotton. Fires burned on, men and women still screamed or cried or shouted to one another, but it was all veiled in the mercy of fog.
The fog rescinded its grace after the air grew cool enough not to draw it off the water and the stars peeked down at Fenris through the last billows of smoke.
He remained unmoving, waiting for something only he anticipated.
The moon rose, limning the island in silver where it was not lit by fire, turning the lyrium traceries on the elf's skin into echoes of its touch, like moonsilver running in rivulets along cuts in his muscles.
Finally he rose to his feet, his sword held lightly in his hands and watched a shadow move on the ground nearby. It rose to its feet unsteadily, drawn like a marionette on its strings, a head turning to survey its surroundings before fixing its gaze on Fenris, eyes already lighting with a blue fire.
"Hawke sent me," Fenris told Justice and swept forward in a blaze of lyrium and steel.