If he remembered anything of his dreams on waking, it was soon driven from his mind by the insistent pain in every limb, the ache of his head and the twisting of his guts.
Some involuntary groan must have escaped his lips, for he hadn't even opened his eye before he felt Fenris shift then gently slip his arms around him, cradling him. He was aware of the proximity of lyrium, and then the elf lit up his brands and mercifully, the pain and aching lessened. He really did groan then, in appreciation and relief. He opened his eye slowly and Fenris' face blurred into view. The elf's face was fuzzy and a little indistinct, but it was a definite improvement over his vision before he fell asleep - and a vast improvement over the lingering blindness.
"Hello, love," he said quietly, and was rewarded with a hesitant smile.
"How do you feel?" asked Fenris softly, his voice a low rumble.
"Like I just went ten rounds with an ogre and then it sat on me," confessed Anders. "But at least I can see you again."
"You can see -!" Fenris blinked, and then the hesitant smile widened, became one of genuine joy.
"A bit blurry, but yes," Anders smiled back.
"Anders! Good to see you back with us," said Hawke. "Do you think you could manage to eat something? It's only deep mushroom stew I'm afraid, but it's better than nothing."
Anders glanced around at the rogue then nodded. "I can try," he replied.
Fenris helped him to sit up, slipping behind the blond apostate so Anders could rest against his back and the elf could help him feed himself. With Fenris holding the bowl and gently supporting his elbow, Anders was able to manage about half the bowl of stew; his hand shook, and some spilled down his front, but for the most part he was able to get it into himself until he felt his stomach protesting. Still, it was far more than he'd managed in days, and Fenris was heartened to see more life in the blond mage in his arms. After he'd eaten, there was a little colour restored to Anders' cheeks, his amber eye a little brighter.
Anders glanced round and noticed Varric and Bethany were asleep; Hawke's sister was pale, dark shadows beneath her eyes. Hawke noticed Anders' gaze.
"She'll be alright - Beth just wore herself out a little watching over you and trying to heal you as best she could. She had a bit of a headache but she'll be fine," the rogue said with a shrug. "We'll all be much better when we can get out of here. How are you feeling now?"
"Incredibly weak, but glad to be alive," smiled Anders. "Dare I ask how long I was out?"
Hawke and Fenris exchanged a glance. "Four days," said Hawke heavily. "We thought we were going to lose you. I think we nearly did."
"Four...!" Anders blinked. Had it really been that long? Time flowed differently in the Fade; he'd had no way of telling how much time had passed in the waking world whilst his mind and spirit wandered with the healing spirits. He knew only too well how close he'd come to dying, but he didn't think he should share that with them. He could feel Fenris' arms holding him as tightly as the elf dared, as though the warrior thought he could hold him safe and keep him with them by strength alone. In other circumstances it might have felt almost claustrophobic, but Anders found he didn't mind; it was comforting.
Fenris had let his brands fade until only the ones upon his arms still glowed, pressed against Anders. It was enough to keep the worst of the symptoms at bay; at least to let him think more clearly. The blond mage was still very wary of moving incautiously; his joints still felt stiff and swollen, and he wasn't sure he would be capable of walking far in his current condition. But still, it was far better than it had been on wakening, when the burning, stabbing pain made it hard to think straight, demanding almost all his energy and concentration.
"My pack - did anyone bring it?" he asked. "I have herbs in there - elfroot, willowbark, poppy juice. They'll help with the pain and inflammation. They can't take away all the symptoms of lyrium withdrawal, but they'll make them a little more tolerable."
"You're pack's safe," smiled Hawke as he pulled it out from behind himself. "You'll have to tell me what's what and how to prepare them for you."
The rogue boiled water over the fire, then under Anders' direction he carefully brewed a herbal tea. He poured out a cup of it for Anders, then set the rest aside to cool.
Fenris held the cup; Anders' hands still shook too much, even with Fenris' support, to hold a cup of hot tea. Anders sipped it slowly once it had cooled enough not to scald his mouth; the elfroot was bitter, and the syrupy poppy juice extract didn't do much to take away the aftertaste, but Anders forebore it willingly. He drank it all, and then leaned back against Fenris to wait for it to take effect.
"Are you tired?" asked Fenris quietly.
"Very," admitted Anders. "But very glad to still be alive."
He knew the tea was starting to take effect when he felt himself growing drowsy with a vague sensation of floatiness imparted by the poppy juice. "I should sleep for a while," he said sleepily. He felt, rather than heard the elf's reply as Fenris murmured assent and quiet reassurances; his voice rumbled within his chest, the vibrations against Anders' back soothing. He fell asleep in Fenris' arms, slipping away gently into slumber.
It was a further three days before Anders was recovered enough for them to consider moving on. During that time, Anders grew more worried for Bethany; she seemed withdrawn, but shrugged off his and Hawke's concerns, saying she was only tired and hungry; the diet of deep mushrooms wasn't exactly the most filling or nutritious, but it was the best they had.
It was a relief to get out of the small cavern and get moving. Anders could feel his claustrophobia crowding back in on him the longer they stayed there. He was still frequently racked with tremors, his joints ached almost constantly, and his head still ached as much as it had for months; but the elfroot and willowbark tea helped with the pain, enough to push it back and keep moving. When things got particularly bad he would add a little of the poppy juice, but he was very sparing of it - it could be every bit as addictive as lyrium in its own way, and too much could be fatal. But sometimes it helped him to fall asleep at night - particularly when his empty eye socket began to throb, hot and painful behind his eye patch as it had started increasingly to do.
Gradually, he needed the touch of Fenris' lit brands less and less. The lyrium craving never entirely went away, and deep down inside Anders suspected perhaps it never would. But he could push it to the back of his mind and keep going - at least for now.
His magic was gradually growing stronger as he slowly recovered his strength and his body continued to heal, but he conserved it carefully, using his various blast capsules in fights with the shades and strange beings that seemed at first to be rock wraiths that they began to encounter and saving his magic for healing and shielding.
He was growing more and more concerned about Bethany. He was becoming certain that her listlessness and headaches were more than just the product of their diet and the weeks underground, but she shrugged off his concern and insisted she was fine.
They'd just fought off yet another group of the strange rock wraith-like creatures when there was a mighty roar of "ENOUGH!" and a large group of rocks drew together before them to form the biggest rock wraith they'd yet seen.
"Andraste's tits, look at the size of it!" breathed Hawke as they took a step back, Anders and Bethany gripping their staves in readiness as Varric raised Bianca and Fenris' brands lit up again.
"You have proven your mettle. I would not see these creatures harmed without need." The voice echoed hollowly from the glowing orb that seemed to serve for the creature's head, floating above the glowing rib cage formed of golden fire.
"You're the first one here that hasn't attacked us," remarked Hawke. Anders stared at the creature, his eyes narrowed; he leaned forward.
"Hawke, that's not a rock wraith," he murmured quietly. "That's a demon."
Fenris' sharp ears caught Anders' words and the elf let out a low, feral growl. "Let us destroy this demon and be done," he hissed.
"These creatures will not assault you further... not without my permission," said the demon slowly.
"What are these creatures?" asked Varric. "They're like rock wraiths, and yet..."
"They hunger..." answered the demon. "The profane have lingered in this place for ages beyond memory, feeding on the magic stones until the need is all they know."
"They feed on the lyrium!" realised Anders.
"So, if you're not one of them - a profane - what are you then? You talk; you're obviously intelligent," said Hawke.
"I am not as they are. I am... a visitor," the creature answered.
"Told you," said Anders in a sing-song voice. "Demon. Hunger demon unless I miss my guess. It's here to feed on the hunger of the profanes."
"I would not see my feast end," said the demon. "I sense your desire. You seek to leave this place, but you will need my aid to do so."
"Don't do it," Anders hissed as he readied his staff and glared at the demon. "It'll try to trick you. Demons will trip you up every time."
"The mage is right," growled Fenris.
The demon had turned its head to stare at Anders. "Ah. Another one who hungers, and for much the same as the profanes." Though it had no visible mouth, they could hear the smile in its voice. "Yes, such desire and longing I feel in you... so delicious. It calls to you, does it not? You hunger for it. You burn for it."
"Enough, demon!" roared Fenris. "You shall not feed upon him!" His brands blazed brighter as he readied his immense two-handed sword.
"Deal with a demon? I don't think so," growled Hawke as he raised his knives.
"Most unwise..." rumbled the demon.
As they launched to attack it, it gestured and two waves of profane suddenly appeared, flanking them on either side; a shout from Bethany told them that their way back had also been cut off. Trapped in the middle, they had no choice but to fight their way through.
Anders called up shields for everyone then turned to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Bethany as she concentrated on providing back-up to Varric and he dealt with the group of profane that had come up behind them. He was aware of Fenris off to his right dealing with those profane there; behind him he could hear grunts from Hawke as he tackled the demon. Anders swung his staff in a wide arc, sending out a fan of ice that blocked the entrance of the profane. He spun to face the demon and rapidly hurled one of his ice blast capsules, rapidly followed up by a fire blast and then one of the little magenta spirit bolt ones before he turned back to unleash chain lightning on the profanes, swinging up his staff to swiftly take down the two that managed to stagger out of the storm of lightning bolts still arcing between the fallen stones that were all that remained of the rest of that group of profane, the rocks still frosted heavily from his ice. He was quite pleased that the staff seemed to be every bit as good at amplifying the effects of his electricity spells as Hawke had said.
A quick glance to his side showed him that Fenris was hard-pressed but still holding his own despite several wounds and scrapes. Anders threw a hand out towards him, sending a wave of healing over Fenris then following it up with a quick Rejuvenate before hurling one of his paralysis capsules at two profane who were trying to flank the elf.
He turned to face the demon. He couldn't see Hawke but he assumed the rogue was busy striking at the demon from the shadows, continually moving to make it harder for the demon to catch him. Anders hurled another paralysis capsule at the demon's feet; there was an explosion of green light as it took effect. He followed it up in quick succession with a fire blast capsule and then an ice blast bomb then levelled his staff at the demon to finish off with a blast of lightning; he had the satisfaction of watching several parts of the demon's rock carapace shatter off as the demon bellowed in pain and rage.
The demon lashed out at Anders; the blond apostate managed to fend off the first swing of its immense stone fist, but the spirit blast it unleashed upon him had him reeling. Its second swing caught him a glancing blow, enough to send him staggering back to collapse to the floor.
He was aware of Fenris screaming his name, and then it all became rather hazy for the next few minutes until Fenris was gently helping him to sit up as Bethany carefully dabbed his face with a damp cloth, wiping away the trickle of blood winding down his face. She brushed his loose hair away from his scarred eye socket and then recoiled with a small scream.
"What? What is it?" asked Anders, dazed; suddenly the cavern seemed much brighter, and he couldn't understand why he was seeing halos around everyone as they crowded around him, staring at him in consternation. "Will someone tell me what's wrong?"
"Anders, your - your eye. The - the missing one," said Hawke hoarsely. The rogue had gone pale; even Varric looked a little ashen.
"Blondie, your missing eye? It, er... it's..."
"What? What is it?" exclaimed Anders, unable to keep a note of panic from creeping into his voice.
"It's... not missing any more. Kind of," finished Varric lamely.
Anders sat up. "What do you mean, 'kind of'?" he asked slowly.
"Beth, have you got a mirror on you?" asked Hawke in a hushed voice. Wordlessly his sister hunted through her pack then pulled a small, polished metal mirror. She handed it to Anders, her eyes wide and horrified.
Anders took the mirror with a shaking hand. Feeling a sinking dread, he lifted it to stare at his reflection. A moment later he dropped it with a cry of horror before he tried to scrabble backwards, breath coming fast and frantic in his panic.
Where before there had been only the scarred ruin of the empty socket, now a glistening, glowing orb of silvery blue blinked out at the world, like an eye of living lyrium.