Hawke felt truly awful.

On the one hand, she was truly relieved and happy to be home, and for Anders' healing magic that was slowly mending her broken body. To rest at last in a real bed was heavenly; her own bed would be even better, when she could get to it.

But there was disquiet, also, a deep and abiding foreboding that she could not dismiss. There was also serious physical discomfort to contend with. While busy trying to save her own life the pain had been much greater, but she had determination, focus, and adrenaline to drive it back. Now with her survival assured and no longer needing to struggle, she had nothing to do but lie abed and hurt.

Anders' healing magics had repaired the worst of the damage - from the puncture to her lung, from the steady loss of blood - but seemingly countless injuries remained, and a steady stream of pain leaked around the edges. The swelling in her face had diminished enough that she could open both eyes, but a bruise remained, purpling the left side of her face. Her chest was bound, for the broken ribs, and her left arm was strapped to her other shoulder. Bandages covered her nearly all over to prevent infection from her many cuts, gouges and bites. Everywhere she ached.

At first she did almost nothing but sleep. Time passed just beyond her awareness, and faces floated in and out of her view. Friendly, happy faces that seemed distant and unrelated to her situation. In between the happy faces there was darkness, the darkness of the Bone Pit, and of being utterly alone.

The feeling would not depart, even with Anders constantly at her side and watching over her. Every few hours he would caress her with his magic and she gloried in its touch (it had been so long), as well as the affectionate physical caresses he gave her whenever she opened her eyes and smiled at him. It made her remember in flashes the heady enchantment of falling in love with him, of realizing this beautiful man loved her - her, the stocky, rough warrior of no great looks or charms. With him watching over her now she wanted to believe he loved her still. But it was a hollow belief, without force or substance.

The longer she was awake, the more the uneasiness grew. She tried her best not to think on the trial of the last few days. At the same time she could think of nearly nothing else. She kept up a cheery disposition, but all the while she felt perpetually on the edge of tears. Crybaby, she scolded herself, but that didn't help at all.

After a day of quiet rest she demanded visitors despite Anders' objections. "If I get much more of this quiet I'm going to lose the rest of my marbles," she insisted. "If I must stay in bed I should at least have some entertainment."

"Aren't I entertaining?" he asked, mock-offended.

"Absolutely!" she reassured him tiredly. "But you'll have to start letting other patients in the clinic sooner or later, and I need the distraction. A parade of the Champion's crazy companions should keep me properly busy until I can get out of this bed."

"If it will keep you in your bed, I will allow some visitors. One at a time."

The next morning it started right away, and kept up into the night. Just about everyone she knew came to visit Hawke in the clinic. Neighbors, friends of her mother's, just about everyone who ever graced the Hanged Man... the word of her misadventure had gotten out, and the admirers poured in. No sooner did one visitor leave than the next filed in, making her wonder if she had a queue outside.

She was not as avid a conversationalist as she would normally be. But the Champion's well-wishers had never let disinterest stop them from talking her ear off, and they did most of the work themselves. As for her friends, they more than made up for her moodiness in their enthusiasm.

She could see their happiness but not share in it. It seemed to bounce off an invisible shield around her.

Of course she faked it as best she could. No one seemed to notice the difference, or chalked it up to her recovery. Since her mother's death Hawke had gotten very good at pretending everything was all right.

Official visitors came as well. The tale of her disappearance had finally reached the Viscount's Keep and the Gallows along with the news of her rescue, and they were more than a little put out at not being informed. She got a visit from Knight-Captain Cullen, which was… awkward, considering she was in an illegal apostate clinic. She thought Anders might incinerate him on the spot. But he stayed only briefly, paid his respects, shared a concerned message from the Knight Commander and left.

Hawke's sister came too, under Cullen's escort. She burst into tears at the sight of her injuries and flung herself weeping onto her bed, as Hawke stroked her pretty hair and consoled her.

She had forgotten Bethany's weepiness. The poor girl had cried almost daily when they were children. She was so sensitive to every kind of injury that Sadie had hardened herself against. Every fallen bird would set off hours of tears. An unkind word could make her sullen and troubled for days. So often she had comforted her little sister and struck back at any hapless fool that dared make her cry.

Now they were both grown, and she had not seen Bethany cry since their father had died in Lothering. Not so long ago, really, but it seemed a lifetime. Sadie had forgotten already the feeling of being a big sister, a daughter, of having a real family. It was another reminder of all that she had lost.

She petted her baby sister like they were both children again and she could still protect her from the world. "My Beth," she said soothingly, "everything is all right now."

But they were no longer children, and Sadie could no longer protect her. When the Knight-Captain called her away, the slim mage stood with a determined sniffle and wiped her own tears away. She smiled at her broken big sister and walked away into her own story, one that Hawke was no longer a part of.

Hawke had to take a moment to dab at her own tears before she called her next visitors in.

The only person who didn't come to see her was Fenris. This was odd, considering how many people insisted that he was somehow instrumental in her rescue.

Varric, for example, had mentioned specifically how determined the elf had been to find her. But when she pressed for details, he never quite explained what Fenris had done. Only that he had been more dedicated than anyone.

Merrill had smiled meaningfully when she asked if Hawke had seen him yet. When Hawke asked her why, she had only giggled and said: "Oh, no reason. I just think he'll be awfully happy to see you, that's all."

Even Orana had mentioned him, when she stepped shyly to her bedside. The timid elf maiden had to be escorted to the clinic, having no experience navigating Darktown. It was a long journey for a girl who had rarely left her estate, and Hawke was touched to see her.

Out of nowhere, she had mentioned: "Master Fenris must be so relieved."

When Hawke had corrected her, saying that she must have meant Anders, the girl had looked at her strangely, and said nothing.

But where was he, if he had been so concerned?

It got to where, with each new visitor, she would look hopefully at the door and be disappointed every time it wasn't the white-haired elf. It was making her grumpy at all of the other perfectly wonderful people who had taken the time out of their lives to come and see her, and it was all his fault. If he didn't appear soon, he was going to be in big trouble. She would hobble over to wherever he was and hit him with her crutches until he begged her pardon.

Imagining that scenario was not making her feel any better.

That evening, while Anders was out rummaging for supplies, Aveline stopped by, disappearing mysteriously into a side area of the clinic away from the relative privacy of Hawke's bed. Then she returned in a rage.

"No one has told you! Have they? The lousy cowards!"

As she tended to do when perplexed, and with Aveline in general, Hawke took to needling her friend. "Good to see you too! Hey look: I'm alive! Isn't that nice?"

Aveline added a note of worry to her anger. "I was there, remember?"

"I... sort of remember. It all got a little fuzzy at the end there."

Aveline shook her head, grumbling. "Do you remember Fenris?"

Hawke looked at her quizzically. "Glowy elf. Next question?"

"Do you remember him carrying you back to Kirkwall?"

She stopped, and stared thoughtfully into space. "Maybe. That was him? It was all very confusing by then. But I remember... yes..." She had been trying not to think about it, and the details were blurring together in her mind. But she remembered someone holding her. And she remembered leaning against his narrow chest in relief. Yes, that must have been Fenris.

"I think I remember that. But when we got to the clinic, it was just you and Donnic and Anders, and he hasn't shown up since. Where in the world is he?"

"He is here. In the clinic."

"Here?" Hawke stared at the red-haired warrior, stunned. "Then why haven't I seen him?"

"Because he has slept for two days solid."

Hawke sensed she must be missing something here. "I don't understand."

"He was very ill, even more ill than I realized. We brought you here to be healed, and I went to tell Bodhan and the others the news. I should have stayed. I didn't imagine Anders would keep him apart from you, not after what he did."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Fenris is sick?"

"He nearly destroyed himself to save you, Hawke. I hope you'll remember that."

Hawke gave her a disbelieving look. "We're talking about the same grumpy elf, right? Why would he do that?"

"Oh Hawke," Aveline said, exasperated. "For a smart woman, you can be really incredibly dense."

Hawke just stared at her, growing worried. "What did he do? I keep asking, and nobody will tell me! Is he all right?"

Aveline sat down on Hawke's bed, a strange expression on her face. "When you... disappeared, Fenris wouldn't leave. The rest of us went home to our beds and he searched for you desperately. He waited days for any sign that you were alive, tried to reach you. He begged us to help you."

To Hawke's skeptical expression, Aveline emphasized: "Yes, Fenris. He begged us. He wanted us to climb into the pit to search for you. But we all felt... there was no way you could have survived. It just seemed so unlikely."

Hawke closed her eyes. A jumble of thoughts were fighting for her attention.

So they left me for dead after all.

How did I manage to live through all of that? It seems unlikely even to me, now.

Really? Fenris?

Aveline didn't wait for her to catch up. "He refused to believe it. He insisted you would survive. Not for a moment did he give up on you, even though we all tried to talk him out of it. Even though I..."

Aveline dropped her head, embarrassed. "I tried to force him to give up. I thought I was helping, but... I pushed him too hard. Something happened. He had some kind of fit. His lyrium brands went out of control."

"The light..." Hawke whispered. She had thought it was Anders. But it wasn't?

"He damaged himself. It was my fault. I didn't have his faith in you. I'm sorry, Hawke."

Sadie's voice was very quiet now. "Will he recover?"

"I think so. He's still weak. He went for days without rest or food, and he had injuries from the dragonkin that need to heal. Much like you, actually. I don't know about the lyrium... but it seems like the worst is over."

Hawke digested this. Fenris, injured. Sick. It was hard to imagine. "Why did no one tell me?"

"I suppose no one wanted to admit the truth. We were ashamed of ourselves. And we should be, every one of us. We left you for dead, and we left him too. We told him he was mad for refusing to abandon you. If he hadn't been the stubbornly devoted ass that he is we would never have found you. The only reason Donnic and I were even there was to try to bring him back to Kirkwall, and we happened to hear you shouting."

"It was you and Donnic and Fenris, then? Was Anders there? Was he ever there?" She knew it was entirely beside the point, but she had to know.

"You mean, at the Bone Pit? I don't know. He wasn't when I was there. He certainly didn't do what Fenris did. I don't think he came back for you, Hawke."

Hawke closed her eyes and nodded. She knew it, deep down. That was what she had been trying not to admit to herself ever since she woke up in the clinic.

"I am glad you're all right, you know. You have no idea how relieved we all are to have you back."

"Thanks," she answered automatically. More thoughtfully, she added, "And thanks for telling me... all that. The truth."

"I should let you rest," the red-headed warrior said, gathering herself up.

"Could you... tell Fenris something for me?"

"What?"

Sadie racked her brain for the right thing to say, but she was coming up empty. Nothing seemed good enough. "Never mind. I'll tell him myself."

Aveline looked satisfied. "Good. That's good. When you're both feeling better, you should talk."

And the Guard-Captain left Hawke alone, with a storm raging within her.