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Ever since the Templars had sacked Anders' clinic, he had grown more and more withdrawn. Fenris did not so much mind the silence. After all, he and Anders had always tended to get along best when they went without words. But he was worried about Anders all the same.
It was this damned city. Kirkwall would take everything Anders had to give if he stayed here. Without the ability to enact some kind of change by seeing at least some of the mages to freedom, Anders had little to keep him going. There was not even the comfort or safety of his clinic. Not anymore. All that Anders had these days were Fenris and his cause. Fenris knew that no matter how much he loved Anders, he was poor company for someone in Anders' current state of mind.
They had to leave, it was as simple as that. They had to leave Kirkwall or, one way or another, the city would kill them. But Fenris dragged his feet, hesitating to suggest just that. Where would they go? Where could they go? Not to mention that for the first time in his life he had found friends, no, family, and he had no wish to relinquish them. But for Anders' sake, he would. He just had to find the right time.
This morning, however, had been a good one. Better than good, in fact, and the first such in a long while. Anders woke in high spirits, kissing Fenris awake. They stayed abed much later than was their wont, making love lazily, taking their time to enjoy one another. Afterwards, they had bathed together, Anders talking merrily of visiting the market and what he planned to buy. It seemed he had woken up with a craving for some special treat from the Anderfels, one his mother had often made him when he was a child.
"I am not sure who you think will be baking this cake of yours," Fenris had observed wryly. He had been hard pressed to hide his smile. From the twinkle in Anders' eyes, he knew he hadn't succeeded at all. "Neither one of us is exactly skilled in the culinary arts."
"I am sure we'll manage," Anders had laughed.
Fenris wouldn't have refused even if his objection had been substantial. He was so relieved to see Anders happy that he would likely have agreed to anything the man asked for. So off they went to the Lowtown market. The day was sunny and the walk through Hightown was pleasant. Fenris allowed himself to hope that perhaps things might be turning around at last.
He should have known better.
They made it about halfway down the broad stairs leading from Hightown to Lowtown before Fenris became aware of angry shouting. It seemed to be coming from the bottom of the stairs. The sound was nothing really unusual for Lowtown, but Fenris paused as he realized he recognized the voices. One of them was Knight Commander Meredith and the other was.... Pfaugh! That's Orsino. I wonder if I can convince Anders to come back to the market later... But it was too late. By the frown that crossed Anders' face and purposeful way he hurried down the stairs, Fenris knew that Anders had recognized the voices as well. Sighing at the end of his happy morning, he hurried to follow Anders down the stairs.
A crowd was gathered at the bottom, watching what seemed to be quite the show. He wasn't even remotely surprised to find Hawke in between Meredith and Orsino. Trying to talk them down, he hoped. Sometimes it was hard to tell with her though. Her sense of what was appropriate seemed oddly developed. Isabela, Merrill, and Varric stood just in front of the loose circle of Templars and mages surrounding the confrontation. Fenris didn't know if they'd been with Hawke or had just come to see what all of the fuss was about. As he and Anders silently joined the trio, Fenris saw Aveline out of the corner of his eye, pushing her way toward the center of the crowd. No doubt one of her guards had run to fetch her. Sebastian trailed along behind her and Fenris idly remembered that he had mentioned having a morning meeting with the seneschal.
To no one's surprise, the argument was about mages and the Circle. It sounded like Meredith thought there were blood mages being harbored by the others and wanted to do a thorough search of the Gallows to "cleanse" the threat. Even a few months ago, Fenris would have taken the suggestion seriously. But he had enough knowledge of the situation by now to know that she just wanted an excuse to kill any of the mages she didn't think were following her rules. He shook his head ruefully, glancing over at Anders. The mage's face was blank. Fenris blinked at the sight. He would have expected anger, fear, frustration. Some emotion at least. But there was nothing. Fenris grew cold inside. This didn't bode well.
"Anders." He stepped closer, whispering, placing his hand lightly on Anders' shoulder. "Let's get out of here. Hawke has the situation in hand. The mood Meredith is in, she'll lock you up just for being in the market."
"No," Anders said.
His voice was low, but clear, as emotionless as his face. His whole body flickered with a spider web of blue light, there and then gone again in an instant. With everyone else's attention focused on the fight nearby, he suspected he was the only person who even saw it. Anders stepped away from him and Fenris' hand clenched around thin air as he tried, too late, to hold on.
"It is time," Anders intoned.
"It can't be," Fenris whispered. I'm not ready for this to end.
He should have stopped him. He should have surged forward and pulled Anders out of the market, dragging him back to their home. He should have known that whatever Anders meant to do could not be undone and made good on his promise. He could have ended it all with one squeeze of his hand or one swing of his sword. Instead, he just stood, rooted to the spot, watching dumbly as Anders strode up to Meredith and Orsino to call them out. His voice was steady but empty as he beat his staff against the ground, flaring blue as he spoke.
This was not Anders anymore.
Fenris did not believe it was Justice, either.
No, he was looking at Vengeance in all his terrible glory. Fenris tried to move, but still he stood frozen, watching his lover throw everything away for the sake of his Maker-forsaken cause. He had no idea what was coming, but he knew that nothing would be the same again. He barely heard anything that was said, just a jumble of words...no half measures...what have you done...no turning back. Anders glanced at Fenris then, meeting his eyes, and for just a split-second he was Anders once more. The look on his face shattered Fenris' heart. Regret that deep....
Fenris could barely breathe.
Was this what his victims felt when he reached in and squeezed?
Bright lights. An explosion. The ground rocked beneath them. Dimly, Fenris could hear the panicked screams, could sense the crowd dissipating as people fled in terror. But he cared nothing for any of them. His eyes remained locked on Anders. The blue light faded, the cracks in his skin disappeared, and all that was left was a man, weary and sad.
"There can be no peace," he whispered, hanging his head.
Finally, Fenris could move again. He took half a step toward Anders and then glanced at Meredith. Surely she would demand Anders' head for this. Even Orsino, who looked to Elthina as his last hope of reprieve from Meredith, would want Anders punished. Instead, he listened in stunned fury as the woman called for the Rite of Annulment. She gloated at its necessity after Anders' action.
That was not right. Even Fenris knew that.
Orsino sputtered, arguing for his mages, but Meredith had ceased to listen. Both turned to Hawke, demanding her support. Fenris would have been surprised at the relief he felt when she refused to let Meredith slaughter the mages wholesale, but there was no time. Refusing to let her prize be denied her, Meredith called for her Templars to kill Hawke and Orsino, to kill all of them. Fenris dove into the fight with relish. Here was something familiar, defending his life and the lives of his friends. There was no ambiguity here. But the fight was over all too quickly, and as the dust settled, Fenris turned to look for Anders beside him out of sheer habit.
But Anders was not there.
His first thought was that someone had gotten to the mage during the fight. He looked around frantically, ignoring the discussion between Hawke and Orsino. There! Anders was sitting apart from the group, slumped over on a crate and staring ahead without seeing. It was only once he had located Anders that the words behind him finally began to make sense. Hawke had walked over to him and he said something to her that Fenris missed. Then she turned back to the rest of them and Fenris realized what she was asking. He looked at Anders closely, and realization washed over him.
"He wants to die." Fenris spat out the words, wishing he could rinse his mouth of their bitter taste.
Had what they shared meant nothing to Anders? Could he so easily leave Fenris here all alone again? But...from the very beginning, he had promised Anders that he would kill him if he went too far, if Vengeance took over. Anders had never argued the point. Not once. In fact, on more than one occasion, Fenris had even thought Anders seemed grateful to know that there was someone there watching for just that, someone to end it if need be. Had he had a death wish all along and Fenris had just not seen it? Or did he simply know he walked a dangerous path and was glad to know he would not get too far down it unchecked? Of course, that was exactly what had happened, wasn't it? Fenris had sworn again and again to stop Anders from going too far, but in the end, he had failed.
So now what?
He didn't realize that Hawke had taken his words as his vote. She steeled herself and stepped closer to Anders, pulling a knife from her belt. Anders closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"No."
There was an audible gasp from behind him and Fenris blinked. He could not remember moving, but somehow, he held Hawke's wrist in a firm grip. The blade hovered over Anders' back.
"Fenris!" Her eyes were round and wet with tears. She did not want to do this.
Anders stood and turned. He glanced between Hawke and Fenris and then took another deep breath. Setting his shoulders, he turned to Hawke.
"It's alright," he said softly. "It should be him."
He turned to Fenris, his eyes pleading, full of hope and, worst of all, understanding. But all of those were overshadowed by the love that Fenris saw there. He felt himself relax and it brought a small sigh from Hawke. He let go of her wrist and she stepped back, clearly willing to cede the unpleasant task to someone else.
"You've had this planned for ages, haven't you? Everything had to have already been in place, and I never even suspected..." Fenris knew he sounded angry. Whether at Anders or at himself, though, he did not know. "I never could have stopped you, could I?"
Hawke stood nearby, watching their exchange in silence.
"Is this truly justice?" Fenris asked. "Meredith will kill every mage in the Gallows for this. All anyone outside of Kirkwall will know is that magic destroyed the Chantry and the mages were made to pay the price. How does that serve anyone?" Anders started to speak but Fenris overrode him, looking at Hawke, holding her gaze, knowing she would understand. "We will need every pair of hands we can find to stop Meredith."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Isabela's lips curl up in a smile. Varric and Merrill both watched the exchange closely, while Aveline seemed to be considering what he had said. Hawke sucked in a sharp breath as she realized what he was getting at. But she nodded sharply and Fenris knew he had won his case.
"Help us fight," she said, turning to Anders. "You can't undo this, but you can at least ensure it wasn't for nothing."
"You're going to let me live?" Anders' face cycled through a series of emotions but finally settled on relief. Fenris was glad to see it. "If I can fight the Templars...absolutely! I will help you!"
"What?!?"
Fenris winced at Sebastian's outburst.
"Killing him is not a punishment, Sebastian. But making him live with what he has done..." Fenris tried to argue.
Sebastian would not be swayed. Fenris worried briefly that his friend might convince Hawke to change her mind again, but she held firm. It hurt when the prince stalked off. Fenris knew he would likely never see Sebastian again. But he had cast his lot in with Anders long ago, even if he had only just realized what that meant.
Fighting for mages. How in the world had it come to this?
"We've wasted enough time," Hawke said sadly as she watched Sebastian leave. "We need to get to the Gallows, and quickly."
Aveline said she would go round up her guards to help, and the remnants of their group set out for the Gallows. Fenris brought up the rear and Anders dropped back beside him.
"You do realize you just saved the life of an abomination, one you have sworn on multiple counts to kill yourself, so that he could help you save the lives of even more mages, right?"
"Your point?"
"I guess I'm just wondering why." Anders shrugged. "It can't really be just because you think death would be less of a punishment than living."
"The damage was already done," Fenris said softly. "Better that you help to repair it, if it can be repaired. I promised to stop you, and I failed. Killing you now helps no one."
Maybe, if he repeated the excuse to himself enough, he would even start to believe it.