My sincere thanks to Uber-beta Mary for your fabulous suggestions, as well as listening to me whinge about having to write another fight scene. You made it a lot easier!
~o~O~o~
Fletcher was woken by a sharp tap on the shoulder. A few blurred shapes slowly came into focus, and he could see that Anders and Fenris were already up, and stood a short distance away, talking to Sebastian. So who had roused him?
"Wake up, you!"
Fletcher groaned softly and turned to Isabela, who squatted next to him, holding a wriggling Tufty under one arm. "Morning," he mumbled, reluctantly sitting up.
"I was the first to volunteer to come and wake you," she told him brightly. "It reminded me of when I used to climb up to the mizzen. Oh, don't worry," she laughed at Fletcher's expression of blank bleariness, "I wore trousers when I did that. If I hadn't, nothing would have got done. Can you imagine?"
"Unfortunately, I can," said Fletcher through a yawn, and Isabela laughed loudly.
"Anyway, I'd better see Fenris; I have a gift for him," she whispered conspiratorially with a nod at Tufty. "Maybe it'll put a smile on his face; he doesn't look very happy to me," she observed, and sprang to her feet, winking at Fletcher before she walked over to the others.
Fletcher's stomach plummeted as he glanced at the elf, who appeared distracted and troubled while conversing with Sebastian – who had insisted on accompanying Isabela – and Anders. Fletcher placed his hands over his mouth and shook his head as he remembered the way he'd behaved in the tunnel, and the look in Fenris's eyes when Fletcher had accused him of betrayal, with Anders of all people.
"I brought your friend to see you!" he heard Isabela chirp, and looked up to see Tufty being thrust into the aghast elf's arms. "He's missed you terribly. And he's not the only one," said the pirate with a cheeky grin.
"Um…thank you," Fenris muttered unconvincingly, leaning back to avoid Tufty's probing snout, but the nug was having none of it and he scurried up Fenris's arm, perching on the elf's shoulder, where he began snuffling Fenris's ear and neck.
"Stop-stop that!" snapped Fenris, squirming as he plucked Tufty off him, placing the nug on the ground.
"Careful, Fenris! He'll wander over the edge!" scolded Isabela as she ran to scoop Tufty up.
"That is his choice," said Fenris unsympathetically with a withering glare at the pirate. "Excuse me," he said tightly to the others, and walked over to Fletcher, sitting down heavily next to the mage.
"Bad night?" Fletcher asked softly.
Fenris glanced back at the others and huffed. "You could say that. You will have to forgive me. I am short on sleep and feel quite…fractious." That wasn't a lie, and Fenris took comfort from that, but would it be lying if he didn't tell Fletcher – on Anders's advice – that they would be facing not only two dozen darkspawn, but an ogre as well?
Your brother kept the truth from me; you have just said as much. That is the same as lying.
Fenris's own words, spoken to Bethany at the Dalish camp, returned to him unbidden. A headache bloomed at the base of his skull and he rolled his shoulders, trying without success to shrug off his building tension.
"Well, we didn't sleep at all the night before, so that's understandable," said Fletcher lightly. "Why didn't you sleep last night?"
"Anders had a…nightmare," Fenris explained quietly. "We did not want to wake you. I believe it was brought on by the proximity of the darkspawn." Fenris sighed and glanced at Fletcher. "If I am tetchy at all, then please ignore me. I mean…if I am more tetchy than usual," he added wryly, his voice softening.
"You're not tetchy; you're just not a morning person," consoled Fletcher with a half-smile. "Anyway, you've put up with more than your fair share from me over the last couple of days." His voice tapered off and he shook his head, his shoulders drooping.
"That was not your fault," said Fenris.
"And it's not your fault you haven't slept." Fletcher rested his hand on Fenris's arm, and the elf sighed softly. "Were you up all night with Anders?"
"Most of it, yes. He was calling out in his sleep, and I woke him before he woke you."
Fletcher glanced at Anders, who was explaining their plan to Isabela and Sebastian. "Did he call out for Ruben again?" he whispered, and Fenris nodded.
"I wonder who he is?" Fletcher wondered aloud.
"Someone from his childhood, perhaps?" speculated the elf. "Ruben is a common name in the Anderfels."
"He mentioned a brother, but never told me his name," Fletcher replied thoughtfully. "I wonder if-"
"Let's get going," Anders loudly instructed, and Fenris stood up, holding a hand out to Fletcher, who took it, but looked across the chasm at the entrance to the lyrium tunnel as he stood up.
"I-I don't want to go back," he admitted nervously, his eyes still fixed on the tunnel.
"We must," Fenris gently urged.
"Then I'll have to be tied up again," insisted Fletcher.
"No," said Anders, having heard the latter part of their conversation. He moved beside them and placed a hand on Fletcher's shoulder. "You'll be outside the tunnel, and not directly affected by the lyrium. You might be a bit jumpy, but I don't believe you'll pose a threat to anyone."
"Then I want to help," Fletcher said.
Anders shook his head. "We've already discussed this. You're not strong enough; your body's been through a lot over the last day or so. You'll stay out of the fighting."
"But I can't just sit there and do nothing!" he protested hotly.
"You can and you will," Fenris dictated. "You are exhausted."
"But I've had some sleep! And you told me you'd allow me to protect you," Fletcher said to Fenris. "Unless my hands are tied, I will be doing that." Fletcher stubbornly folded his arms and locked eyes with the elf. After a moment, Fenris sighed and glanced at Anders.
"All right, you can keep an eye on Fenris only," Anders conceded, deciding that it might be better for Fletcher to have something to focus on, "but that's it. No offensive spells. I'll put you to sleep if I catch you doing that. Leave the primals to me."
Fletcher looked at Anders and then Fenris, whose eyes darted back and forth between the two mages, hoping that Fletcher would not see another conspiracy brewing. Fletcher was way ahead of him, however; he did not want a repeat of his behaviour the night before. "Fair enough," he sighed. "No offensive magic, I promise."
Accepting Fletcher's word, Anders led the small group towards the tunnel that would take them down to the underground stream, which he'd defrosted with magic. The other workers had been busy since their arrival, and torches had been fixed to parts of the chasm walls after the dwarves had deemed the 'new' lyrium safe to work with. To Fletcher's surprise, a Bianca-less Varric and Torbal were standing in the water – which came up to their chests - examining the walls and speaking in hushed tones.
"There you are, Hawke," Varric greeted, beckoning his young friend closer. "Heard you had some trouble in the tunnel. Everything okay, now?"
"I'm fine, Varric," he answered, "and I wasn't the one who had trouble; rather, the one who caused it," he said ruefully, and Fenris, moving beside him, shook his head in disagreement.
"Don't beat yourself up over it, Hawke; none of us would even be in this section of the Deep Roads if it weren't for my brother. No, we'd be stinking rich by now, and free of craziness, temporary or otherwise," he said cheerfully, nodding for Anders and Fenris to draw closer.
"We'll go on up, Varric," Sebastian called over as he assisted Isabela with the rope while she held Tufty. "They should have finished breakfast by now. We'll get everyone in position. Hawke, we saved you some porridge."
"You got it," replied Varric, and Fletcher nodded gratefully at the archer.
"Wait," Fletcher asked with a glance at Torbal, "who's holding the rope?"
"No one," Anders supplied. "Fenris had a good idea. Another one," he amended, looking up at the two lengths of rope that now hung down. "He wondered if I was able to fuse the rope to the rock with a spell. After a few attempts, we managed it; I used a rock spell. I should have thought of it myself, actually." He smiled at Fenris, who modestly shrugged his shoulders.
"You have been busy, haven't you?" Fletcher asked, relieved and delighted that his friends had worked so well together, though he felt guilty that he hadn't been of any help, more so when Anders and Fenris yawned.
"Hey, speaking of good ideas," Varric cut in, "Torbal and I have been discussing this discovery of yours." Grinning as the tired threesome frowned in confusion, he elaborated. "The lyrium? You know – what this entire chasm is made of?"
"Oh, yes," Anders mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Listen," Varric whispered. "As much of a shit as Bartrand is, he might have done us a huge favour taking us down this section. This stuff," he said with a wave of his hand, "could be worth a bloody fortune to the right people. I mean, lyrium that doesn't harm mages in its raw form? Think of it! We could set up a supply chain to rival that of the Chantry's!"
Fletcher and Fenris cast a doubtful glance at the dwarf, but Anders's face lit up.
"I don't know, Varric," said Fletcher. "That would be pretty risky. The Chantry has teeth, you know. They guard their monopoly of the lyrium trade fiercely."
"How would they know, Hawke?" Torbal asked with a shrug. "Varric and I have it all figured out. This stuff's pretty enough to be turned into trinkets. We set up a few little market stalls as a front, but those in the know – trusted contacts, mind you – could shift it for us by the cartload. So long as we're careful over who we deal with, and who we employ, we'd end up not just stinking rich, but filthy rich."
"Are you suggesting that this lyrium be mined?" Fenris asked quietly.
"We're not suggesting it, Elf," said Varric. "We're already planning it. We have plenty of mining equipment left behind in the first chamber, and hopefully we'll get enough money together to buy some more, as well as employing miners. Blondie, there are plenty of able men in the Undercity seeking gainful employment, aren't there, but no one will take them on because they're refugees-"
"Maker, Varric!" Anders exclaimed with a huge smile. "If they worked down here, they could get back on their feet! That's a wonderful idea!"
"And you two," Varric said to Anders and Fenris, "would take a share of any profits made. Hawke, you told me before we came down here that any money we make from this expedition would be split between us, Blondie and Broody, as they helped you to get your fifty sovereign investment together, right? Gentlemen, we're going to be rich!"
Fletcher's face brightened; not only would many of his fellow refugees find employment, but he'd finally be able to repay Fenris and Anders for all of their help.
Noticing Fletcher's expression, Varric grinned. "So, we're all happy about this? In that case, I'd like to introduce you to the mine's foreman." Torbal bowed as far as the water would allow and offered his hand to each of them in turn, but frowned when Fenris did not shake it.
"I do not mean to be rude," Fenris began with a sigh. "I congratulate you all and wish you luck with your venture, but I cannot be involved in it."
"Why?" Fletcher asked, concerned. "What's the matter?"
Fenris shook his head. "As I am a member of the city Guard, a conflict of interest would arise should I profit from this venture in any way. I am not aware of the laws governing the Deep Roads, or the lyrium trade, but I suspect that your proposed mining operation would be considered 'black market'. Fear not; I understand loyalty, and will speak of this to no one. However, I must decline your offer."
"Well, that's a real shame, Elf," sighed Varric as Fletcher looked at him, hugely disappointed.
"But…I owe you," Fletcher murmured. "We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you and Anders; both of you helped me to get my money for the expedition."
"I did not accompany you to make money," Fenris said with a faint smile. "I accompanied you to keep you out of harm's way. Besides, I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay."
Sensing that the couple needed to talk alone, Anders and the two dwarves moved over to the ropes and waited until Sebastian and Isabela had ascended. "This is between us," Varric told them first, and they all agreed.
"You can't just come out of this expedition with nothing," Fletcher argued once the others were out of earshot. "In my opinion, you've worked harder and have come up with more ideas than anyone else here. Anders and I may have been put in charge of the maps, but you've been a leader, whether you care to admit it or not."
Fenris shrugged diffidently and cleared his throat. "It was not my intent to lead," he sighed. "If it pleases you, I will take a share of any minerals or precious stones we find down here, though I have no need of riches; I have enough. I have friends, a position within the Kirkwall Guard – which I am very proud of and have no intention of foreswearing, I'll have you know – plus the companionship of a man whose care and trust have made me a better person."
"Who is he? I'll kill him!" Fletcher joked, glancing around, and Fenris chuckled, grinning widely.
"I already have much," said Fenris softly, still smiling, his fingertips brushing against Fletcher's hand beneath the water. "Why would I want more? With you at my side, I have all I need."
Their eyes met, and, aware that most of the group were probably looking down at them from atop the ledge, Fletcher groaned, holding himself back. "How long has it been since I last kissed you?"
"Too long," answered the elf with a note of wistfulness. "We are going to have quite a backlog to clear. For now, though, let us return. The darkspawn will be upon us within an hour or so, and you have not yet broken your fast." Fenris released Fletcher's hand and gestured to the ropes, just as Anders and Varric clambered over the ledge.
"Yes, Boss," Fletcher teased, and Fenris shook his head. "When we're clear of the darkspawn, we are going to discuss your remuneration. You might not be able to profit from the mine, but you're not leaving this expedition empty-handed. You should be compensated for loss of earnings, at the very least."
"As you wish," uttered Fenris in a tone that told Fletcher he had no intention of bringing up the subject of payment, which only made Fletcher more determined that Fenris would be fairly reimbursed. Moving to the ropes, Fletcher halted and glanced up; from where they were standing, they couldn't see the others, or Torbal, who was being pulled up.
"At least let me show you how grateful I am," uttered Fletcher, and Fenris also looked up, a languorous smile appearing as his eyes moved to Fletcher's.
"Very well," Fenris said quietly, moving closer to Fletcher, who clutched his arms, pulling him close. "If only to spare your feelings."
When, after a few minutes, there was no sign of an elf or a mage climbing up the ropes, Varric peered over the edge and chuckled to himself. "There's a lot of water down there," he called down. "You two really should come up for air, you know."
"Shut up, Dwarf," Fenris was heard to mutter, and there was a short pause, before the ropes were pulled taut.
~o~O~o~
"Another one?" Aveline exclaimed, pushing up off her chair. "Where was she found this time?"
"Darktown," Guardswoman Brennan sighed, watching as Aveline paced back and forth. "Same mutilation as the last one."
"How did this happen in the Undercity? There are hundreds of people down there! Are you telling me no one saw anything? Or knows anything?"
"Donnic and Filbert are questioning people now," Brennan told her agitated guard-captain. "They should have gone to bed hours ago, but they're gutted it happened on their shift. There's some templar sniffing around down there as well."
Aveline stopped pacing and laid her palms flat on her desk. "It didn't necessarily happen in Darktown, or last night. The woman found at the docks was starting to decompose. This poor cow was probably just dumped there."
Brennan shook her head. "No, Captain. This one was fresh. Said they could still smell the cologne on her, they did."
Aveline looked up. "Was she a whore?"
"No; another respectable, middle-aged housewife."
"Shit." Aveline picked up her sword and shield and hefted them onto her back. "Let's get down there and relieve Donnic and Filbert, and find out what this templar wants."
"But…what about the Qunari, Captain?" asked Brennan, suspecting she already knew the answer.
"Bugger the Qunari," was Aveline's succinct reply, and Brennan repressed a snigger as they left the office.
"Guard-Captain Vallen," a supercilious voice drawled from behind them as they approached the stairs.
"Seneschal," Aveline replied crisply without turning around, picking up her pace.
"I was not greeting you, Guard-Captain."
"Jumped-up little turd," she muttered under her breath before turning around. "What is it? I'm busy."
Taking his time, Bran slowly sauntered over to the two guards and straightened his tunic before addressing the captain. "I need not remind you that His Excellency is expecting the Qunari delegation to arrive shortly."
"Your reminder is noted and appreciated, Seneschal." Aveline turned around and once again headed for the stairs.
"I also need not remind you that your presence is required," insisted Bran, and Aveline gritted her teeth as she turned around for the second time.
"And, once again, your reminder is appreciated. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a nutter on the loose in Darktown-"
"Then have your guards do their jobs," sniffed Bran, folding his arms and looking Brennan up and down. "For the captain of the guard not to be in attendance during the Qunari visit would be most…unseemly."
Bristling at Bran's condescending attitude, Aveline mirrored his stance by folding her own arms. "The Qunari are a race of warriors who respect strength. I suspect a guard-captain who sits behind a desk with her thumb up her arse would be unseemly to them."
Bran winced at her words as if he'd been struck. "Please, Guard-Captain. There is no need for such…rustic language."
"There's every need," she retorted. "I'll not have a lunatic running around the city chopping women's hands off while I'm too busy following etiquette. Unless, of course, you want to conduct the investigation in Darktown? From what I hear, you're well-acquainted with the place."
"I…I'm sure I don't know what you mean," stuttered Bran indignantly.
"I'm pleased we understand each other," said Aveline, heading for the stairs again, this time wearing a smug grin.
"But…what am I to tell His Excellency?"
"You'd not like my answer to that, Seneschal," answered Aveline, already halfway down the stairs. "Might be too rustic for those delicate ears of yours."
~o~O~o~
They were ready. All but two torches had been extinguished; the two on the far side of the chasm, where the darkspawn would emerge. Anders's taint would push them forward, and hopefully a few of them would fall over the edge, but the creatures wouldn't be fooled for long. No, for their plan to work, the darkspawn would have to be lured into the water, and for that to happen, they would need bait.
"How long?" Fenris asked Anders as Torbal put the finishing touches to his rope harness. Fenris would be lowered halfway down the wall of the chasm accompanied by a few wisps, making him, and the ropes, visible. Once the darkspawn started to descend, Fenris and the ropes would be pulled up, leaving the darkspawn as sitting ducks.
The trouble was, Fenris would also be a sitting duck for a short time. Although the elf was confident in the protective magic that Anders and Fletcher would bestow upon him, Fletcher wasn't, and he chewed his fingernails, constantly glancing at the lyrium tunnel behind them, which did nothing to calm his nerves.
"Ironic, isn't it?" Fletcher said to Fenris. "When we first met, I was angry at you for using us as bait. And now you're the bait." A broken laugh spilled out of him, and Fenris smiled, placing a hand on Fletcher's arm.
"And our foes will be as unsuccessful now as they were then," Fenris assured him. "How long?" he asked Anders again.
"Fifteen minutes, maybe? They're not far."
Fenris smiled at Fletcher again, squeezing his arm. "We are going to test the harness. I will return shortly."
Fletcher nodded silently, and Varric moved over to him, launching into his repertoire of corny jokes in the hope of making his friend laugh.
Fenris walked to the edge, followed by Anders and Torbal, and looked down. "Are you going to tell him?" he asked Anders quietly.
"I don't see the point, now," Anders mumbled. "I know you don't like keeping things from him, but it won't be able to get into this chamber; it's too big. When the rest of the darkspawn are taken care of, we can deal with it. I don't want Hawke losing his concentration while he's keeping an eye on you."
Fenris closed his eyes and groaned, reluctantly nodding. "Let us proceed," he said listlessly to Torbal.
After a few run-throughs, Fenris and Torbal were satisfied. No magic – save the wisps – had been used, though, for fear of depleting the mages' mana.
"All right, everyone in position!" Anders called out, estimating it would be less than five minutes before the arrival of the darkspawn.
The frontline fighters hid behind a barricade fashioned from sacks of food and other equipment, while the rest of the group, along with the nugs, stayed in the relative safety of the lyrium tunnel. Varric and Sebastian found comfortable positions and rested their weapons on the barricade, giving them a clear shot across the chasm; a few practise arrows and bolts confirmed that they were in range. Isabela, Thirin, and a few of the humans – all skilled in throwing knives – were also on standby to pick off any darkspawn the archers missed.
The mages, both nervous for different reasons, stood near the archers; Anders behind Varric and Fletcher beside Sebastian, where he'd have a clear view of Fenris as he was lowered down in the harness. Wiping his sweating palms on his robe, Fletcher glanced over at Anders and felt a wave of resentment and anger wash over him.
"No," he whispered to himself, realising that his nearness to the tunnel was evoking negative thoughts and emotions in him. "No!"
"Hawke?" Sebastian asked. "Are you well?"
"I'm fine, thank you," he answered quickly, before sighing. "No…I'm not. Sebastian – will you…will you keep an eye on me? The tunnel," he muttered, nodding to it.
"Join me, Hawke," invited the archer, holding his arm out. "The light of the Maker will shield us both."
Strangely comforted by that, Hawke moved closer to Sebastian, who placed a hand on Hawke's shoulder. "There is nothing to fear, Hawke. We are all part of the Maker's grand design, and He will call us to stand at his right hand when it is our time." When Fletcher stared ahead without answering, Sebastian added, "But I do not believe that our time is now. We will prevail, have no fear."
"Will-will the light of the Maker shield Fenris, as well?" Fletcher asked meekly.
"Yes," answered Sebastian confidently, "as will you, guided by Him. Do not doubt your abilities, Hawke; if someone as cautious as Fenris trusts you with his safety, then I have no doubts that you will keep him safe. I wouldn't question Fenris's judgement; would you?"
"No." Bolstered by Sebastian's faith in him, Fletcher straightened and took a deep breath. "Thank you. For humouring me."
"I wasn't," smiled Sebastian, and Fletcher, feeling warmth spread through his chest, smiled back at him.
"They're on their way," Anders warned, his fear not quite successfully hidden behind his brusquely-spoken words.
All talking stopped, and the only sound to be heard was the clank of Bianca's gears. They waited. After a minute, the quiet clearing of a throat came from inside the lyrium tunnel, followed by a loud tut.
"There," whispered Sebastian, readying his bow as the first hurlock cautiously ventured onto the ledge.
"Don't shoot it," Anders advised. "Let's see if any of them are stupid enough to walk off the ledge."
The hurlock halted and waved its crudely-fashioned sword, and was quickly joined by several more of its kind, all of whom stared through the gloom directly at Anders's group.
"Don't worry, they can't see us," Anders assured the others. "It's my taint. They know I'm here; they're just wondering why I haven't attacked them, I guess."
"Well, I ain't standing 'round here waitin' for 'em to decide!" Torbal exclaimed, and rose to his feet, placing finger and thumb in his mouth and emitting an ear-splitting whistle. "Hey, freaks!" he roared. "Why dontcha come over here and make friends with my axe?"
"And let's not forget Bianca!" Varric joined in, letting fly a bolt which whistled past the hurlock's ear. Enraged, the hurlock and some of his fellows charged forward, only to plummet over the ledge. Several splashes were heard, as well as shrieks when their bones fractured upon contact with the stone bed of the shallow stream.
Arrows were quickly fired in the direction of Anders's group, but, as the darkspawn could not pinpoint their adversaries' positions, none of them met their target. Some of the darkspawn group – now five less – slowly edged forward, stopping at the lip of the chasm, while others, having spotted the tunnel, headed straight for it.
"Here they come," muttered Fenris, sitting on the edge while Torbal prepared to lower him down.
"Target their archers!" Sebastian ordered, and a volley of bolts, arrows and knives flew across the chasm, dropping four of the darkspawn.
Finally, the darkspawn on the ledge retreated, while splashing was heard from below as the creatures in the water blindly thrashed around.
"Let's draw 'em out, Fenris," said Torbal, and he and the elf nodded at each other. Before he was lowered down, Fenris turned in Fletcher's direction.
"Be ready, Fletcher."
"I'm right here, Fen," he answered from the darkness.
Anders crouched behind the barricade and summoned three wisps. "Don't show yourselves until Fenris tells you to," he ordered the tiny spheres of light, and they winked out, drifting over the edge to follow the elf.
Fletcher's stomach twisted with each creak of the rope, but remembering Sebastian's words, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he readied himself to protect the man he loved.
A few more arrows were exchanged as Fenris was lowered down, but none of them were aimed at the elf. Several of the food bags were hit, though, rendering them unusable as the arrows might carry the darkspawns' taint.
A tug on the rope indicated that Fenris was ready, and Torbal halted his descent by standing on the rope. Isabela, who stood next to Torbal, helpfully wiped the sweat from the dwarf's brow and was rewarded with a hairy peck on the cheek.
Fletcher squinted, holding his breath as he waited for the tiniest spark of light to appear from below. As the light of the wisps slowly waxed, Fletcher concentrated on the stone and willed its strength and durability to protect Fenris. "Robus Caementi," he chanted, reciting a fortifying spell that Anders had taught him. Fenris's grunt from below confirmed that the spell had worked, and Fletcher released his breath in a relieved sigh.
"I am here, Lusus Naturanum," Fenris announced loudly as he and the ropes were lit up. "I am climbing up the ropes. Do you not have the intelligence to use them?"
A clamour erupted from the other side of the ledge, and the darkspawn on the upper level charged toward the tunnel, leaving only one behind. Several arrows were fired at the elf and one glanced off his shoulder, puncturing the skin but not penetrating it, thanks to Fletcher's spell.
"Is that the best you can do?" the elf taunted.
"Shit!" Anders exclaimed as an orange glow originated from the lone darkspawn atop the ledge. "Emissary! Everyone get down!"
Torbal ducked behind the barricade, keeping hold of the rope, as the fireball rocked their ledge, destroying several of the food bags. Anders's retaliatory spell and Sebastian's arrow both missed the emissary as it threw itself to the ground and crawled out of sight.
"No!" Torbal growled. "The rope! Fenris!" the dwarf pulled up the rope, which was still aflame where it had been severed by the fireball.
"Fenris?" Fletcher yelled, rushing to the edge. "Fenris!"
"He's alive, Hawke!" Anders grabbed Fletcher's arm and yanked him behind the rapidly-shrinking barricade. "My wisps haven't returned to me, and they've been dimmed. He's hiding."
"But-but he might be injured, burned!" babbled Fletcher.
"He had the presence of mind to conceal himself, Hawke," Anders reassured him. "But I can't do what I have to do until he's out of the water. We need to stop them from going back up the tunnel, and we need to eliminate that emissary. I need you to focus, Hawke!"
"I'll take care of the mage, Anders," Sebastian called over as he loosed an arrow at the emissary, who was attempting to break cover. "Damn!" he cursed when the arrow missed, causing the darkspawn mage to once again retreat before Sebastian could nock another arrow.
"Elf!" Varric shouted into the gloom. "If you can hear me, and if you're able, get out of the damned water, quick!"
"Wait!" Anders grabbed Fletcher's arm. "He's in the tunnel! Or at least, the wisps are…he must be with them, Hawke!"
"Don't do it until you're sure, Anders! Please!" Fletcher urged frantically.
"I won't." Anders moved closer to the edge and listened to the splashing and guttural curses that came from the darkspawn as another arrow flew across the chasm, once again missing its target. "Come on, Fenris," he urged. "Let me know that you're out of the water!"
"Got him, Choirboy," Varric called to Sebastian as the emissary again moved out of cover, and Varric took aim, but he lowered Bianca when the mage staggered forward, dropping its staff, as black ichor pumped out of a gaping hole in its belly.
"Broody?" Varric shouted, and he beamed when Fenris emerged onto the far ledge, dropping to his knees as the emissary fell. "Ha ha! Broody to the rescue!" he cheered.
"Right, everybody back!" Anders commanded. A few of the darkspawn, having followed Fenris, appeared on the ledge, but were quickly picked off by Varric and Sebastian, as well as a perfectly-aimed dagger from Isabela.
"Fenris! Are you all right?" Fletcher yelled across the chasm, ignoring Anders. The elf was now on all fours, but managed to raise a hand in answer before slumping onto his belly.
"Fenris!"
"Get back, Hawke!" Anders and Torbal dragged Fletcher away and Anders strode forward, pointing his staff downwards. "Take this, you bastards!" he snarled, and sent arcing bolts of electricity into the water. Screams of outrage and agony rose from the darkspawn and reverberated off the walls, rising high up into the chamber before ending abruptly. An eerie silence settled over the chamber.
"Fenris-" Fletcher cried anxiously, scrambling to his feet, running for the one piece of rope that had been left intact.
"No, I'll go!" Anders exclaimed. "You can't go in the water, now; it'll be tainted! I'll freeze it in a bit but I need to see to Fenris, first!"
Torbal hastily tied the rope around Anders's waist and, with Vonim's help, lowered the healer down. Anders quickly untied himself and waded through the water- black with the darkspawns' tainted blood – and staggered up the tunnel until he finally reached Fenris.
Fletcher watched with unblinking eyes, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest, as Anders conducted his examination, and he felt the soft caress of healing magic being sent into the elf. "He's going to be all right, Hawke," Anders shouted across. "He's got a nasty burn to his shoulder, and he was badly winded and bruised by the fall, but-"
A sudden boom rocked the chamber, and Anders's head jerked around in its direction, before he turned his attention back to Fenris.
"What the hell is that?" Torbal demanded.
"Looks like our ogre's shown up," shouted Varric over the rhythmic tattoo that thundered from the far side of the chasm.
"Ogre?" Fletcher's eyes darted back to Fenris and Anders, and he walked forward, his body seemingly under the control of someone else.
"No, Hawke," Torbal remonstrated, stepping in front of the mage. "You heard Anders. You can't go in the water."
"Get out of my way, Torbal," growled Fletcher. "Either lower me down, or I'll jump down. Don't think I won't."
"Don't make me do this, Hawke." Torbal reached for his axe, and Fletcher willed himself to partially enter the Fade, determining that Vonim was creeping up behind him.
"Damnit, Hawke!" Varric shouted as Fletcher dived for the rope, spilling over the edge, the rope slipping through his fingers. For a heartbeat, he thought he would tumble to his death and then his fingers caught and held the rope tightly as he banged into the stone wall.
"Gah!" Torbal quickly stepped on the rope. "You stubborn bastard! Okay, have it your way! Hold on tight!" The rope was drawn taut as Torbal lowered Fletcher down before going slack as the mage entered the water.
"Don't get any water near your face or ears!" called Varric, and Anders's head snapped up as another shoulder charge from the ogre shook the chamber.
"What? Who's coming up?" Anders demanded, his face dropping when Fletcher appeared at the top of the tunnel. "Bloody hell, Hawke! What did I tell you? Did you get any water in your mouth? Do you have any cuts on your body? Answer me, Hawke!"
Not hearing him, Fletcher glowered down the tunnel behind Anders, seeing only the monster that killed his brother, and another charge from the ogre sent a small cloud of dust down on Fletcher's head.
"You're not having my friends, as well!" he yelled, and picked up Anders's discarded staff.
"Hawke, no! Don't! Don't!"
Nearing the rear tunnel, Fletcher pointed both staves at the ogre's head and called upon his trusty flame spell, sending a swirling funnel of fire into the beast, its power amplified by using both weapons in combination.
"Burn, you bastard!" Fletcher vociferated, his eyes glittering with a savage red gleam as he committed his last reserves of mana to the ogre's destruction.
A bellow, strident and piercing, filled the chamber as the ogre staggered back and bounced off the rock, falling with a crash onto its back, and it flailed, unable to right itself as the intense flame consumed it.
Anders, having stabilised Fenris, jumped to his feet and wrestled with Fletcher for possession of his staff. "That's enough, Hawke! You got it! Now stop before you kill yourself!"
Fletcher broke free and, even as Anders tackled him to the ground, used his last iota of mana to inflict further damage and suffering upon the beast.
"Stop it!" Anders commanded, snatching the staves away and throwing them out of reach.
"You'll never hurt anyone again!" Fletcher roared, and the image of Carver fleeted through his mind, before it was filled with blackness, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Robus Caementi = Strength of Stone
Lusus Naturanum = Literally, 'whims of nature'. Freaks, mutants, monsters.