Hawke, Fenris and Bethany regarded each other sombrely.
Anders had wept until finally, exhausted, he had passed out asleep, slumping against Bethany. Hawke had carefully unbuckled Anders' boots and then, between them, he and Fenris had gently laid out the unconscious man upon the cot. Bethany had gathered up several blankets to drape over him; he hadn't stirred as she covered him and tucked the blankets in around him.
Now she sat beside him, one hand idly carding through the dark blond hair as Anders slept and they debated what to do next.
"Someone ought to tell Aveline," said Hawke. Fenris and Bethany regarded him silently; after a moment, he gave an exasperated sigh and flung up his hands. "Right, fine, yes, I'll have to tell Aveline," he conceded. "But what am I going to tell her? 'Sorry, Aveline, some unknown person or group with a lot of money has been trying to smuggle tainted lyrium into the city to poison all the templars and facilitate a mass break-out of all the mages in the Gallows but we have no idea who'? That's going to go down well, I can tell you."
Fenris cleared his throat. "We ought to inform the Knight-Commander; the templars are her jurisdiction."
"Won't that just make her clamp down on the mages even harder?" asked Bethany.
"We cannot risk every mage in the Gallows being set free," said Fenris. "I cannot allow that. It would be a disaster waiting to happen." He shook his head firmly.
"They're people, Fenris, not monsters!" exclaimed Bethany.
"Pfaugh, you know as well as I do that it only takes a few succumbing to demonic temptation and we'll have an epidemic of abominations on our hands tearing up the streets; mages are weak." Fenris shook his head with an expression of disgust. "They will not be able to handle the stress of being free, and it is the innocent people of the city who will suffer - as always."
"You seem to be forgetting I'm a mage, Fenris," exclaimed Bethany coldly. "Are you saying I am weak? Do you think I'm a danger to the city as well? Maybe you'd like to lock me up in the Gallows too?"
"Now, now, no-one is locking anyone up in the Gallows!" interjected Hawke, rising to stand between them.
"Venhedis, you're as bad as him!" growled Fenris surlily, jerking his chin at the sleeping Anders.
"He has a name - and he's saved your life more times than I bet you can count!" retorted Bethany, her hand stilling in Anders' hair as she glared at the elf who bristled.
"Bethany, keep your voice down or you'll wake Anders," said Hawke quietly. "Same goes for you too, Fenris. I can't believe this - Anders is out for the count yet I still have to listen to this same -"
"Garrett, don't," said Bethany in a low voice. "Don't you dare call this bullshit."
Hawke sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Bethy, please, I don't think the two of you fighting about this is going to do anyone any good right now. Much though I hate to admit it, he does have a valid point - most of the mages in the Gallows won't have known anything but the Circle all their lives. They'd have no idea how to survive as apostates. Set the whole lot of them loose on the city at once and it would be a disaster. This isn't about mage rights, Beth - it's about what's best and safest for everyone. I agree there's a lot wrong with the Circle - but this isn't the right way to go about fixing it."
"I can't believe you're going to side with the templars," Bethany shook her head, and then stilled as Anders twitched. She glanced down at the sleeping man as his brow furrowed, and then he whimpered faintly.
"He is... prone to nightmares," said Fenris quietly. "This talk of templars perhaps is precipitating one." As he spoke, Anders jerked and cried out in his sleep.
Bethany gently ran her hand through Anders' hair then lightly stroked his cheek; his eye still closed, he turned his face blindly to nestle his cheek against her palm with a faint, plaintive whimper.
As Fenris watched her gently soothe Anders back to peaceful sleep again, he felt an irrational stab of jealousy. He remembered vividly the feel of Anders' hair beneath his hand, the soft prickle of golden stubble against his palm, the sleeping man's breath warm against his palm as Anders turned his head trustingly into his touch. Frowning at his own reaction, he clenched his fists and glanced away.
Bethany was too intent on calming Anders to notice, but Hawke glanced from Anders to the elf with a thoughtful look.
"We should leave Anders to sleep and talk elsewhere so we don't disturb him," said Hawke quietly.
"I don't think we should leave him to wake alone," argued Bethany. "Not after the state he was in."
"I will not leave him," said Fenris firmly. "Your sister is right."
"Well, at least we can agree on one thing," retorted Bethany stiffly.
"Beth," said Hawke warningly. She sniffed but held her tongue.
Fenris rose to his feet and paced restlessly. "What are we to do then?" he asked, quieter. "We cannot allow these smugglers to make further attempts to bring this tainted lyrium into the city. You say we cannot go to the Knight-Commander with this matter. What, then, is to be done?"
"We need to talk to Varric, get him to sniff around, see what he can find out about this smuggling outfit and their backers," said Hawke. "I'll suggest to Aveline that she step up patrols in the area, and I guess that means we'll be spending a lot of time in the tunnels too."
"Hawke, what are we going to do about Anders?" asked Bethany.
"Do? Beth, I'm not entirely sure there's anything we, or anyone else, can do about him. Most people don't survive a crossbow bolt through the eye, as a rule; that he's still alive at all is a miracle. The only people who might have some idea about what happens to mages with traumatic head injuries are either the Circle or in Tevinter." Hawke shook his head with a sigh. "I'm not about to go marching into the Gallows with him, and Tevinter is out of the question."
"Do you think it's possible he might regain his magic in time?" she mused.
"Beth, I haven't a clue. I'm not a mage. If Anders himself doesn't know then what chance do I have of knowing?" He glanced at Fenris.
"I do not know if such a thing is possible," the elf rumbled quietly. "I have never known a mage to suffer their connection to the Fade to be severed and yet not be made Tranquil by the experience. This is beyond my limited understanding of such things."
Hawke shook his head. "I think it's beyond all of us. I guess whatever is going on inside Anders, we can only wait and see what happens and try to be there for him."
Fenris had managed to wedge the doors closed and barred them for the time being. He took up a position near the door to stand first watch; although it was unlikely any Darktown denizen would try to break into the healer's clinic, another templar patrol might come sniffing when the first failed to return.
Bethany had stretched out on the cot nearest to Anders in case he stirred again; Hawke had sat up for a while, tending the fire whilst lost in his own thoughts, before stretching out on another cot. He woke when Fenris lightly patted his shoulder, and he stood second watch whilst Fenris got some sleep. He was pondering waking Bethany to take third watch when Anders grew restless, tossing and turning in his sleep. The blond man cried out fitfully, and Hawke was about to make his way over towards him when he saw Fenris sit up and glance over at Anders before rising from the cot and pad over towards the blond man on silent feet.
Fenris crouched down beside Anders' cot; he reached out a hand to gently stroke his fingers through Anders' hair until he grew quiet once more. Fenris remained beside Anders for some time afterwards, silently stroking the dark gold hair, until he finally glanced up and saw Hawke watching. He rose to his feet and walked towards Hawke.
"You will say nothing of this to him," the elf warned Hawke darkly. He moved past Hawke and returned to his cot, stretching out upon it and closing his eyes.
Hawke sat in the darkness, staring at Anders' face as he slept, and pondered.