Hours later, as morning approached and word began to spread of Hawke's miraculous return from the dead, Isabela walked into the clinic. The pirate queen had heard the news directly from Aveline, who she encountered en route to the Hawke estate to inform the household of the good news. Isabela passed the word along to Varric (which was as good as telling everyone in the city personally) and headed straight for Darktown.
She found Hawke asleep with a protective Anders hovering over her, holding her hand and murmuring to her softly. Disliking the smell of self-righteousness in the morning, she decided to avoid the healer. Instead the pirate found Fenris in a corner alone - curled on his side, sound asleep. In all the commotion over Hawke, no one seemed to have taken notice of his presence.
Isabela frowned sympathetically. Of all the luck – the elf finally found Hawke and he had to bring her straight back to Anders. It hardly seemed fair.
She ruffled his shaggy white hair, as she had often been tempted to do. When he did not flinch away from the intrusion her stomach dropped. "Hey," she said, and shook him by the shoulder. "Hey!"
He wasn't responding. Fenris was a notoriously light sleeper, not to waken or at least protest was incredibly unlike him. She put her hands on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing, but there seemed to be no movement at all. "Wake up!" she shouted in his ear.
With an oncoming sense of panic, Isabela bounded across the room and dragged Anders away by the collar.
"Something's wrong, he won't wake up."
Anders grumbled something about lazy elves and their melodramatic pirate admirers, but as he examined the elf he fell silent. Indeed, something had gone very wrong.
Fenris was breathing, but only shallowly. His skin had taken on an alarming grey sheen. With a light caress of magic, the healer had him breathing deeply again. But something was still amiss.
Something strange has happened to the lyrium brands, the spirit informed him. Justice had always been especially interested in the elf, a fact that never failed to irritate Anders. The lyrium is unstable. It has seemed so since the death of Danarius.
You pay entirely too much attention to those tattoos. It's a little creepy.
He would need a lot more energy than he had right now to heal whatever this was. And he would need everything he had for Hawke - she was his first priority.
Isabela interrupted his thoughts. "What's wrong with him? He seemed all right before..."
Anders stretched his arms over the elf's still form, probing for any sign of injury. "When did you see him last?"
"Earlier today." Isabela looked uncommonly anxious for him. "But he's been running around the Bone Pit for days looking for Hawke. Without rest or food."
Justice spoke aloud. "The power he holds has grown wilder. In a weakened state, if he called upon his lyrium brands they would be difficult to control. He has burnt himself out."
Then Anders shook himself, and came back into control. It was getting harder and harder to shut the spirit out. "But I don't know how to fix this. I think... if what you say is true, his natural strength has run out. He's been drawing from the lyrium for energy, but it isn't meant for that. He's barely alive."
The pirate's eyes narrowed. She didn't like where this was going. "Fix him."
He consulted with Justice. Can I repair this damage, and still heal Hawke? I won't risk her.
We must. He has acted honorably to rescue your Hawke. We owe him a debt.
You do it, then. I'm not sure how.
Justice came forward once again. He looked at Fenris curiously. The fade spirit had always been... interested in how the elf had survived with so much raw lyrium implanted in him.
The elf's spirit dwelt in the Fade, and Justice could locate him with surprising ease. His connection to the Fade was unnaturally strong for a non-mage, perhaps a byproduct of his strange status. A living magical weapon, yet not a mage. Fascinating.
Not relevant right now, Anders reminded him.
It may be. It suggests a way to remedy the problem.
I'm not going to like this, am I?
Without explaining further, Justice intruded on the elf's dream. And Anders saw.
In an unnatural, anxious sleep, Fenris dreamed over and over again of the Bone Pit. That place that had taken the lives of so many slaves, and nearly took Hawke. He dreamed of the passages he had searched and the place he had stood sentry, and all of the terrible fates that could have befallen Hawke. There he still waited for her, gripped with wordless fear.
Justice ignored the content of the dream, which was unimportant. In his full manifestation as a spirit of the Fade, he drew his energies into a building wave, and channeled them through the dreamer's connection to the waking world.
Fenris cried out in pain as his physical body convulsed, his lyrium brands burning him. Isabela tried to hold him down, but the shock of the raw lyrium pushed her hands back.
His dream, the dream where he had been seemingly trapped in the Bone Pit, suddenly cracked through and Fenris found himself fully conscious in the Fade. Confused, he searched around himself wildly. This place wasn't real. Where was he? Through a haze of pain, he saw Justice there watching him curiously. Not Anders/Justice, but the fade spirit itself.
Though he would not remember it clearly awake, many times afterwards he would dream of the true shape of Justice.
The lyrium song diminished, and the brands cooled and darkened.
Justice opened Anders' eyes and examined the elf. He had quieted, and now slept naturally. His store of energy had been relit for now. With some rest he should be able to replenish his strength himself.
"That will suffice, Justice announced. "He will need a great deal of rest."
"As will I," Anders added, staggering slightly under the weight of his own body.
"What just happened?" Isabela asked with her hands on her hips.
"Ask me later. I need to lie down." He rubbed his temples and turned away. "Look after Hawke. Wake me if she stirs."
Isabela nodded, and Anders stumbled to his own bed, head spinning with the implications of all that had happened, and what it would mean for Hawke, and for himself.