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"This is entirely your fault, mage!"
Fenris pulled the brush covering the opening of the cave back into place, hoping it wouldn't be noticed from the outside. He realized with a little surprise that the interior had remained dark. Good. Anders hadn't been fool enough to call a light.
"Everything is my fault, according to you," Anders replied with a tired sigh. There was no bite to the words and Fenris turned back to look at Anders with a frown.
He was slumped over in front of the wall at the back of the small cave, his head resting on his arms, which were crossed over his raised knees. When he said nothing further, Fenris' frown deepened. This wasn't how it went. He would insult Anders, who would in turn insult him right back, countering with an argument for how it was really Fenris who had gotten them into their current mess. It was what they did, something familiar. Comforting, even, though he'd die before he admitted that to anyone, least of all the man before him.
"Anders, are you alright?" Fenris crossed the cave in two paces, crouching down beside the other man.
"Why do you care, Fenris? Are you worried about me?"
Yes.
"Don't be ridiculous!" He snapped instead, pushing down the rising concern at Anders' apathy. "But I will never hear the end of it from Hawke or Varric if I let something happen to you."
While he talked he pushed on Anders' shoulders, getting him to sit up. As soon as he did, Fenris let out a low but vehement curse. A dark wet patch was visible on Anders' coat, even in the dim light of the cave. Fenris hurriedly scrabbled to push back the coat and shirt beneath, pushing down the panic that rose at the sight of the deep wound across Anders' side.
"You're injured!" The wound was still bleeding freely. "Badly." He frowned and then glanced up at Anders. "Well?"
"Well what?" Anders sighed. His head was resting against the wall and his eyes were closed. He didn't seem concerned in the least about the wound. Fenris didn't think that was a good sign at all.
"Heal yourself, you idiot!"
"Well, it would seem you do care. I'm touched, really." Anders issued a low humorless chuckle. "Do you really think I wouldn't have done it already if I was able?"
"Not able?"
"I exhausted my mana fighting those bloody slavers, trying to keep them away from you, I might add. I don't have enough energy to heal this. I'll have to rest and try to take care of it later."
"If you wait that long you'll die."
"It's not like there are any other options at the moment."
With another curse, Fenris sat back, opening one of the pouches at his hip and fishing around inside. He produced a small vial full of glowing blue liquid.
"Drink this," he said, pushing it into Anders' hand. Anders blinked and stared down at the vial, then up at Fenris. His surprise was enough to dissipate the apathy.
"Why do you have a lyrium potion?"
"For situations like this, as it happens." Fenris said dryly. "Now drink. And heal."
Anders did so, staring at Fenris with a puzzled expression as he quaffed the potion. He looked down at his side and focused on the wound to heal it. Fenris closed his own eyes as the sensation of magic being worked nearby washed over him, resonating with the lyrium in his body. He fought down the small smile that tried to play across his lips. It wouldn't do for Anders to see it. But healing magic, oh healing magic just felt so warm. It was unlike the feel of any other casting he'd been around. It not only didn't grate with his lyrium, it calmed him, somehow. The magic stopped and he sighed, opening his eyes to find Anders staring at him, openly curious. He scowled and Anders just shook his head, a wry grin on his face. He was still pale but the color seemed to be returning to his skin. That was a good sign.
"Thank you," Anders said softly.
"Yes, well." Fenris looked away, uncomfortable. "You are our healer. Hawke needs you. It wouldn't do to let you perish because you are too foolish to look after your own skin."
"Right," Anders said, rolling his eyes. "Of course." He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall again, relaxing a bit. "That was enough for the healing, but I'm still wiped out. I'll need to rest."
"Of course." Fenris said, moving to sit next to Anders. There wasn't really anywhere else to sit, after all, and he could watch the mouth of the cave from here. "It's just as well. Night is beginning to fall. We'll probably have to wait until morning to make our way back to the city."
He steeled himself for an objection. Anders' aversion to dark, enclosed spaces was well known among their group after all. Instead of the expected outburst, however, Anders just sighed and nodded wearily. He must have noticed Fenris' surprise, however, because he gestured at the cave's opening.
"This isn't that bad for me. I can see the exit, I know there's a way out. Even when it gets dark, I'll be able to feel it. There's fresh air, too, which helps. Besides," he paused and bit his lip, as if unsure whether or not to continue. "Company makes it easier to bear," he added after a moment.
"Even my company?" Fenris couldn't help the wry laugh that escaped with the question.
"Contrary to what you might think, Fenris, yes. I do prefer even your company to being alone." Fenris could feel his eyebrows shoot up at that. It would, perhaps, have been less of a shock if Anders' tone had been mocking or harsh. But instead there was almost a fondness to the words. Maybe he wasn't the only one who had grown to find comfort in their constant bickering.
"Oh." The comment seemed to warrant some reply, but that was all he could think to say.
Anders just smiled lightly and settled in against the wall. Fenris did the same, watching the cave's entrance as darkness fell. He would make sure Anders had the chance to rest, and in the morning they would return to Kirkwall and their lives would go on. Anders' shoulders brushed against his and if he leaned into the contact, just the tiniest bit, well. It was no one's concern but his own, and...perhaps Anders' as well.